Recovery
by Miranda River
Summary: She doesn't want him to see she's falling love with him. He doesn't want her to see his scars. Set after In the Shadow of Two Gunmen Part II and before The Midterms.
1. Chapter 1

Donna had to sleep

Donna had to sleep.

She knew that, she knew that she had to be awake and alert tomorrow, ready to take notes so at least one of them knew how to take care of Josh.

Her stomach flipped at the thought of being able to take him home. She hated visiting him in the hospital, even though she would never tell him that. No matter how many times she went there, all she could think about was when she first found out, how Toby had to tell her, how she watched them work on him, how Mrs. Bartlett held her as she cried. She hated seeing him in that bed, unable to believe that Josh Lyman could be confined to a bed, that a bullet could take him away from her.

She hated the hospital.

But she got to take him back to his apartment tomorrow. Actually, today, since it was already two in the morning. She wondered if he was awake, just as she was. She hoped so, it was comforting to think of Josh lying awake as well, so that she wasn't completely alone.

She finally sighed, knowing that she wouldn't be falling asleep anytime soon. Her air conditioning wasn't working and on the eleven o'clock news they were marveling at the heat wave that was wrecking havoc on DC.

Donna went into her kitchen, laughing to herself how much her refrigerator looked like Josh's. She had a few frozen pizzas, some milk that was probably yogurt by now and a pathetic looking apple. There wasn't even some Ben and Jerry's.

She settled on the pathetic looking apple, wishing that it was Cherry Garcia instead. She went back to her living room, hoping that there would be some sappy movie that she could vegetate in front of for a couple of hours. Luckily Pretty Woman was on, one of Donna's favorites. If only romance was as easy as Julia Roberts and Richard Gere made it out to be. Of course, she thought bitterly, Julia didn't have to deal with a demanding boss who never let her out of the office until late at night, always had an "emergency" when she had a date, who was heart wrenchingly cute when he was jealous…

She really didn't need to be thinking about Josh like this.

Donna sighed, hoping it was just lingering relief that he was alive that she was feeling instead of the crush she was pretty sure she was developing on Josh Lyman.

Julia and Richard rode off into the sunset, her apple was eaten and Donna was still awake.

She would need stop by Starbucks before she faced Josh Lyman.


	2. Chapter 2

He had to sleep

He had to sleep.

He knew that and yet he still stared at the ceiling, counting the tiles, wishing they hadn't taken away the remote to the television, telling him that CNN was making his heart rate increase and somehow that wasn't good. He wasn't sure how, he didn't want to know how.

He had to sleep.

Donna was taking him home tomorrow. He knew how much she hated the hospital, how sad she looked when she thought he wasn't watching her-the she just walked through the door, into his room, her head still down but the sadness radiating off of her. He would have gladly fought off the tubes they had inside him, just so he could hug her and beg her to stop looking so sad.

He couldn't wait to go home, couldn't wait to get out of this damn hospital. His friends visited him when they could, but that wasn't nearly often enough. Donna came everyday though. She came to have lunch with him, dinner with him and stayed until he fell asleep. She stayed all day in the beginning, refusing to go home unless it was to change clothes. Mrs. Bartlett had admonished her for that-telling her that she was no use to Josh if she was dead on her feet and looking like someone had killed her dog.

Josh laughed at the memory.

He wished that Donna was with him right now. She would tell him about the latest book she was reading, or something in the paper she read that she became angry about, or how terrible he was when he was confined to a bed. Maybe she would play Go Fish with him to pass the time, or tell him pointless stories about her years in high school.

He would do anything to be distracted right now.

It was easier to sleep when Donna was here anyway.

Like it was all ok.

He wanted to call her. Tell her that he couldn't sleep. She would sigh and gripe that he kept her up and how could he expect her to become both an assistant and a nurse when he was calling her up at all hours of the night? But then she would smile, he knew, and then she would talk to him until he fell asleep.

He needed to sleep. He needed her. But he couldn't do that. It would make things too weird and she would be right, she would need to be awake to listen to the doctors.

If Josh Lyman had his way, he would be in his office right now. Not strapped to this damn hospital bed. Unfortunately, powers were working against him, particularly a boss with a doctor for a wife, Donna who wouldn't even let him adjust the pillows and Leo who told him his main priority was getting well and healed.

He felt useless. There were so many meetings, so many things that he could do that the others couldn't. They had enough to do, they shouldn't have to take on his work, not when he was capable of doing it himself.

But there would be weeks left of this still. Weeks of therapy and healing and scar tissue that would never really go away.

He should be happy, he survived, after all. But he hated looking at the scar. He wasn't even sure why.

He didn't really want to know why.

There were folders next to him, folders on various things that Toby and CJ deemed important, yet he started to lose the forest for the trees, unable to connect one with another as long as he wasn't in the fishbowl.

His fingers itched to grab the phone and call her, have it make it all better. It wasn't her job to make him feel better, he knew that. But they were _friends_…

CJ and Sam were also his friends. Would he be willing to call them at two in the morning?

Not that he would really have much to say to them. They would just ask him how he was holding up, how Donna was, tell him that they missed him, couldn't wait to have him back and maybe throw him a bone and tell him what was going on in the White House.

They wouldn't just chatter, not like Donna, taking his mind away from this damn hospital room with its stupid restrictions and its disgusting food.

What he wouldn't give for a cheeseburger…


	3. Chapter 3

Her alarm clock was going off way too early

Her alarm clock was going off way too early.

Donna groaned, wondering what she would have to sacrifice in order to sleep in five more minutes. Probably her trip to Starbucks, which she needed before she went to baby sit Josh.

She dragged herself out of bed, wondering why it was that she was the one to go get him, taking him home-his home, not hers.

It wasn't a very assistant-y thing to do.

She tried to convince herself in the shower that it was something friends do and that it did not, by any means, mean that she had a crush on Josh Lyman.

She threw on a pair of jeans and a t-shirt, cursing the record high temperatures and how it made her hair flat and she would probably get sunburn. She looked gross and there were dark circles under her eyes that refused to go away, even with concealer.

She wanted Josh to think that she could handle this.

She went to Starbucks, confident that a peppermint mocha with whipped cream and chocolate flakes would not only give her the caffeine jolt she desperately needed but would make her feel ten times better.

"Can I help you?" the Starbucks barista asked in a bored tone.

"Yes, I would like a grande peppermint mocha with whipped cream and chocolate flakes, please." She always made it a point to be nice to clerks and other staff. She spent a disastrous summer working as a waitress at a restaurant in Wisconsin and since then she considered it karmatically sound to be nice to waitresses, waiters and clerks, even when they were rude to her.

Donna waited while her drink was being made, eying one of the brownies that was calling her name, even though she was still technically on a diet. There was this great dress that she knew would just look amazing on her if she just lost two more pounds.

She walked out of Starbucks sans brownie but had the best drink in the world in her hands. She took a long sip, savoring it as she hailed a taxi.

"Where to?"

"GW, please."

Donna was surprised how easily it rolled off her tongue now, though she supposed she shouldn't have been too surprised. After all, she visited Josh there everyday. And after today, God willing, she would never have to go there again.


	4. Chapter 4

Donna was taking him home today

Donna was taking him home today.

Josh paced around his room, happy they took out all those tubes and let him move around like he wanted to.

Donna was taking him home today.

He probably shouldn't be so excited, but he looked forward to her visits. He practically counted down the minutes.

He hoped he looked ok. He was dressed in one of his old Harvard t-shirts and a pair of sweats. His hair was sticking up from all sides but he couldn't really fix it. He tried, but it just went right back up.

He always had this problem, he realized morosely.

Donna saw him at his best and his worst. He shouldn't be worried what he looked like. He was shot, for God's sake.

Besides, it wasn't a very boss thing to think.

She was probably getting a coffee, one of those weird drinks she liked from Starbucks that were more like milkshakes than coffees.

He bounced on his heels. Where was she?

"Mr. Lyman?"

"Yeah?"

"I want to check your vitals and your bandage once more before you check out."

He hated being prodded by nurses. He felt fine, yet they insisted on checking him every five minutes, it seemed like it.

"Shirt off."

"Oh. Yeah. Ok."

He took off his shirt, wincing when he looked down and saw the bandages. He should be proud of it, but when he saw it he felt sick, a weird taste in his mouth like a penny and he needed to sit down.

She took them off, examining the forming scars. It was angry looking, Josh thought. He didn't know scars were that red and…angry. He was starting to feel a little queasy.

He heard a gasp.

Donna was there at the door, staring at him but not meeting his eyes.

All she could see was his scar.

Somehow this irritated him. He wanted to snap at her, point out to her that he was more than scar tissue, he was the damn deputy chief of staff that bullets couldn't get rid of. He wanted to tell her that he was still Josh, that he would still yell for her, still know every member of Congress but not know when his next meeting was. That he still wouldn't eat right and he still would come to her apartment when he was drunk and yell at her roommate's cats. He would make fun of her gomers and sabotage her efforts to have a social life.

She looked up at him, the tense moment finally broken. She put on a smile, a forced one that he knew she was only doing for his sake.

She looked pretty, in a casual way. The effortless look that he always liked better than the forcedness that Mandy always had. Donna, he realized, could be wearing his Harvard shirt as she was wont to do and still look amazing.

That wasn't a very boss-like thought either.

"Hello," Donna greeted the nurse. He wanted to go up to her and put his arms around her, force her to confront him.

No more fake smiles.

"Good morning. I was just showing Mr. Lyman how to dress his wound. Are you his wife?"

Josh suppressed a laugh as Donna turned red. He was surprised she didn't get it more often. He did.

"No. Just a friend," Donna said. "But I still should know. Men don't listen, do they?"

"You'll want to keep it clean, of course, so make sure to wash with extra care. Change the bandage once a day and give it some time to breathe before you put the dressing back on."

"OK," Donna nodded. "Is there anything else we-I need to know?"

"We'll be giving you some papers on the general care of post surgical patients, but make sure he doesn't do too much too soon. He should shy away from heavy physical activity for now-"

Donna snorted.

"Hey!" Josh felt the need to protest. "I was thinking of running marathons now, since my brush with death."

Donna inhaled sharply, looking over at him. "Don't joke about things like that, Josh. Go put your shirt back on."

He supposed that was supposed to be a dig at his physique, which really just made him want to keep his shirt off. More than that he wanted to apologize to her, to make that look she gave him go away.

"Just keep him as comfortable as possible. He has breathing exercises that he must do every morning when he wakes and every night before he sleeps."

Donna nodded again. "I assume there will be follow up appointments?"

"Yes, those you will schedule with the specialists listed on this paper," the nurse handed Donna another paper to add to her growing collection.

He was glad she was here. He didn't want to deal with this. He was still on pain medication, still felt the dull ache of the wound.

There were too many of them.

He was like Frankenstein.

He caught Donna staring once. There wasn't any revolution in her eyes, there never was. She just looked so sad.

He wasn't perfect anymore, he realized. Sure, he could get Congress to bend to his will, he could run a country and get a dark horse elected, he could defy death but Donna would never see him.

She would see the scars.

The thought scared him more than it should.

"Make sure he eats well, doesn't overtire and does his breathing exercises. If you have any questions at all, don't hesitate to call his doctors."

Donna nodded. He knew by the end of the day she would have all of his appointments scheduled and she would go grocery shopping.

"OK, Josh. Let's get you home. I think you've done enough damage here," Donna told him lightly. "Your things are packed, except for the files you insisted on looking at this morning," she said, looking pointedly at the files on a table.

"Someone has to run the country."

"And that someone is not going to be you. Not for a while, at least."

"I'm the third most powerful person in DC."

"Of course you are," Donna said placatingly.

"Don't patronize me."

Donna only smiled, picking up his backpack and offering to help him up.

"I can walk."

His mother always called him stubborn. In truth walking hurt like nothing he ever felt.

Donna frowned. "I'm getting you a wheelchair."

"I'm fine."

"Stop being a grouch. I'm getting you a wheelchair and you're going to behave yourself."

She walked out only to return a few minutes later with a wheelchair.

"Sit," she commanded.

Josh raised his eyebrow.

"Fine," she spat. "I'm too damn tired to deal with you, Joshua. Either get into the wheelchair or suffer."

She has that look on her face again. The one that makes him want to go to her and make it go away.

He got into the wheelchair. That would make her happy, bring the smile back to her face. Maybe she wouldn't leave.

He got a smirk out of her, when he turned to look up at her.

She wheeled him out of the hospital. Was it just him or were there tons of people looking at him? He wished that Donna hadn't had mystical power to make him do her bidding. He could have walked out of here without all these people staring.

They got in a taxi, sans wheelchair.

"How are you doing?" She asked him anxiously.

"I'm fine. Just sore. How are you?" He peered at her face. She put concealer on her circles, he noticed.

She gave him a smile that didn't meet her eyes. "Fine. At least, as fine as one can be babysitting you."

"Thank you," he said simply, slipping his hand into hers.


	5. Chapter 5

She had never been happier to be in a cab with Josh Lyman

She had never been happier to be in a cab with Josh Lyman.

She just wanted to put her head on his shoulder, let out the breath that she held ever since she saw indestructible Joshua Lyman's scars, and sleep.

Then he slipped his hand through hers, whispering to her 'thank you' when she made a quip about babysitting him. She wanted to throw her arms around him, but that didn't seem like a very assistant thing to do.

Not even a friendly thing to do.

As abysmal as it was, Donna loved Josh's apartment. She'd stayed there during transition. Not that she was really ever there and they weren't really ever there together. It was only a couple of months anyway-

Oh god, it sounded so bad even in her head.

Still, she loved Josh's brownstone. She loved all the books that he probably never read, all the newspapers that were left in random places. He never remembered to do his laundry and there were carryout menus in his fridge.

"It's hot outside," Josh whined.

"Good thing we're not staying outside," Donna replied, helping Josh out of the cab.

"Has it been like this all week?"

"You haven't seen the local news?"

Josh pouted. Donna normally hated men who pouted, they looked so stupid, but when Josh pouted she didn't even realize that she was doing whatever it was that he wanted.

"They wouldn't let me watch the news."

"Poor baby. If you're a good boy, I'll let you watch all the news you want."

"Really?" he looked like a kid at Christmas, seeing all the presents under the tree.

"Mmhmm. Only if you follow the rules though."

"Rules?"

"I'll explain inside."

They stumbled into Josh's brownstone. She set him down on the couch while she started compulsively cleaning, making a list of all the things she needed to do to the place.

"The rules, Donna?"

"For one, you're going to eat right. I don't want to hear how you want a burger because you're not getting it. Salads for you, Josh. And you're going to eat fruit for a change. One cup of coffee, and that's after I make sure it's ok with your doctors. You're going to do your breathing exercises like the nurse told you to and you're not going to over-tax yourself."

"There's going to be more, aren't there?"

She nodded. "As I see fit."

"But I get to watch the news?"

"Yes."

"Will you let CJ and Sam and Toby visit?"

"If they follow the rules as well."

Josh grinned. "What, are you going to make them eat salads too?"

She stuck her tongue out at him. "No. They're going to have to make sure they don't stress you too much."

"I don't like your rules."

"You'll thank me later."

"Can I at least see the _Washington Post_ for today?"

"Yes," Donna said, handing him the paper. "No ranting. You can't fix the world, Josh."

"Yes I can."

He reminded her so much of a little boy still under the belief that if he shut his eyes, no one could see him because he couldn't see them. Her heart melted.

Oh god.

She was crushing on Josh Lyman.


	6. Chapter 6

For the first time in a very long time Josh Lyman was having a lot of trouble concentrating on politics

For the first time in a very long time Josh Lyman was having a lot of trouble concentrating on politics.

He was the man who knew every single person in Congress. He knew all their secrets, how to make them do what he wanted, he was the person the president sent. He was the bulldog of the Democratic Party.

He had the diplomatic ranking of a three star general.

Yet he couldn't even read the fluff pieces in the 'In The Loop' column. He couldn't concentrate on anything except how nice it was to have someone besides himself in his apartment.

Specifically, how nice it was to have Donnatella Moss in his apartment.

She was cleaning, of course, already muttering to herself about how he didn't know how to take care of himself. Already it looked better, not so forgotten.

He could imagine coming home to her, having her worry over him because he forgot an umbrella and it was raining. How she would slowly make the apartment into hers and he would love it that way.

He really shouldn't be having these thoughts.

"Josh?"

"Yeah?"

"I'm going grocery shopping. Sam's coming over in a few minutes and then I'm going to go."

"Sam's allowed to come over and play?" he asked sarcastically.

"Stop it, or no nightly news for you."

"OK."

She pursed her lips. He wished she wouldn't do that, it only made him concentrate on her lips and that _really_ wasn't good.

"You're being too agreeable. Are you feeling ok?"

"Yeah, I'm fine."

She only frowned, looking at him some more. She had really pretty eyes, he never really noticed before. No, he did, when she gave herself a job, he remembered thinking that she had Bambi eyes, but they were really pretty. He'd never seen that shade of blue before.

She blushed and the air left his lungs. Everything suddenly became much more intense, her eyes had something more than concern in them, but he didn't know what it was. He wondered if he could get up, wondered if she would move, if she would protest if he just kissed her like he had the compulsion to do. It suddenly became very, very imperative that he kiss Donna Moss right now.

"Hello?"

Donna jumped, looking away from him.

"Sam! Come in." She went over to greet him, giving him a hug when she did.

He hated Sam right now.

"Donna, you look like you haven't slept in days. Has he been keeping you from sleeping?"

She laughed. "No. He's being strangely compliant. I wonder if we can keep him on those pain pills…"

Sam laughed as well.

He _really_ hated Sam right now.

"How are you doing?" Sam asked him.

Josh shrugged, still annoyed at his best friend for interrupting what he was sure would have been a spectacular kiss.

"Play nice, Josh, and I'll be back in an hour. Sam, don't stress him with shop talk. In fact, no shop talk at all."

"Ok, Nurse Donna."

She left, smiling and waving at the both of them.

"Ok," Sam said. "Now you can tell me what's really going on."

"What?" Right now Sam was the last person he wanted to see. He wanted to see Donna again. Maybe he could convince Sam to grocery shop and Donna to stay with him.

"You were hatching a plan and then I interrupted it and now you're mad at me for interrupting whatever your sure to be ridiculous plan was."

"It was a good plan."

"What?" Sam asked, looking at his best friend. "Josh, are you actually blushing?"

"No?"

"Yes, you are. And I'm willing to bet it has something to do with Donna. I interrupted something, when I walked in, didn't I?"

"No, you didn't, Sam. She was just telling me that you were coming over and that she was going to get food."

"That's not what I saw."

"Well, you're wrong," Josh said arrogantly.

"No, I'm not."

"Yeah you are. Watch it, or I'll tell Donna that you were stressing me out."

"No, you wouldn't."

"No, I wouldn't. She would probably panic and not let me seeing anyone from work."

"Oh, that reminds me, Toby sends his wishes."

"Toby? Sending good will and cheer?"

"I wouldn't go that far. He just said to tell you that he was glad you weren't dead."

"Stop it, Sam, your sentimentality is making me tear up."

Sam smirked. "We miss having you around, buddy. Come back soon."

Josh grinned back. "I'm trying. You try to get Donna to do anything once she's set her mind to do the exact opposite."

"Is she doing ok?"

"Who?"

Sam rolled his eyes. "Donna, Josh. We really need to get you off those pain pills."

"Yeah, she's fine."

"She looks like death."

"No she doesn't. She looks great."

"You didn't see her when you were in surgery, during the odd hours she was in the office while you were recovering. She looks like someone who is barely holding it together. Just…don't take advantage of that, ok?"

"She looks fine to me."

"Josh, you wouldn't notice if someone wasn't alright until they were taken away screaming, and even then you would ask if they could still work."

"Hey!"

Sam shrugged. "It's true. You're worse than Toby."

"Does this constitute as shop talk?"

"Not really. More like analyzing your personality."

"Donna's not going to get anything good, is she?"

"By good you mean burnt burgers and milkshakes?"

"Yes."

"Then no, I think we can safely say that Donna will get getting what people commonly refer to as fruits and vegetables."

"Figures."

"How are you feeling?"

"Fine. Why?"

"You're grimacing. When did you last take a pain pill?"

"I dunno. Donna knows, though."

"And you're Deputy Chief of Staff."

"Damn straight."


	7. Chapter 7

It felt weird, like she shouldn't be out while Josh's was still recovering, even though she was getting things like soup and fruits and vegetables, maybe a couple of popsicles…

It felt weird, like she shouldn't be out while Josh's was still recovering, even though she was getting things like soup and fruits and vegetables, maybe a couple of popsicles…

She really didn't have a list-it was in her head but it wasn't clearly defined and she was sure that she'd remember something tomorrow and have to go back, but then she'd have to get someone else to look after Josh, maybe CJ would…

This was getting to be too much. Really, the only reason why she was doing it was because of her crush on her boss, which wasn't very professional and Josh would just have his ego inflated that much more.

Ice cream. That's what she needed. Some Cherry Garcia and some Pistachio and Josh's favorite, chocolate, because he was boring like that.

She should probably learn how to cook things too. She used to cook for Dr. Freeride all the time, but somehow she didn't think cooking was like riding a bike. You probably didn't instinctively know it. Luckily, when she passed the magazine and trashy romance novel section, there were cookbooks there. She grabbed a couple simply on the judgment of the cover, not that it mattered because she grabbed Josh's credit card on the way out.

It was still hot out. She was going to hate the cab back to her apartment. She didn't really even want to leave, she wanted to stay with Josh because she was afraid that if she left that he wouldn't be there when she returned.

She made it back to his brownstone in record time, thanks to lack of traffic. The one good thing about DC in the summer is that all the other people have left, often leaving Donna and Josh to themselves. There have been so many nights, she remembers, that instead of just going home right away he invites her back to his apartment so they can drink a beer and maybe play some scrabble. It's too damn hot to do anything else.

"I'm back!" she called, hearing Josh's and Sam's voices in the other room. She hoped they were behaving themselves, that Sam wasn't telling Josh how hard it was without him, because she would never be able to keep Josh away from the office if he found out. Normally she loved his compulsion to fix things, but this time it just might kill him.

She couldn't bear the thought of him being dead.

"Hey Donna," Sam said. "Do you need any help?"

"No, thanks, I got it. Go keep him company. Would you like to stay for dinner?"

"I'm good, thanks. Toby wants to work on a speech, I'll get something in the mess."

"If you're sure?"

"Yeah, I'm fine. I'll see you tomorrow?"

"Probably. Just to field calls and pick up a few things that Josh will want to look at."

"OK," Sam gave her his characteristic grin. "Take care of yourself, Donna."

"I will, promise. See you tomorrow, Sam."

She hugged him goodbye, glad he was leaving, yet still wishing there was a buffer for the nagging, embarrassing feelings she was having.

"Why do you get to go to the office?" Josh asked combatively.

"Someone has to run the country in your absence," she said innocently.

"God help us," he mumbled.

She bit back a grimace. This wasn't Josh talking, she reminded herself. This was Josh still recuperating, this was Josh who needed his pain pills.

This was Josh who was shot.

"Time for some pain pills, I think," she said lightly.

"Did you get anything good at the store?" he asked.

"Not by your standards, no, but peaches were on sale."

"I hate peaches."

"You hate peaches that aren't soaked in syrup. Stop being such a child."

She handed his pills that he eyed for a second before swallowing them with a swig of water.

"Watch the six o'clock news while I make dinner," she instructed him.

"Yes, Nurse Ratched," Josh said.

"I'm better looking," Donna shot back.

"Don't think I don't know that," Josh muttered under his breath.

"What was that?" Donna called.

"Nothing," he called back.

She heard him though and smiled, enjoying the compliment that she wasn't meant to hear but did anyway.

She made spaghetti. It wasn't that hard to make, really the only thing she could make without cracking out the cookbooks she bought.

She'd never made any dinner for anyone after Dr. Freeride, usually she was at the office and just got a muffin at the mess or she just grabbed a salad from a grocery store salad bar. She couldn't remember the last time she actually made a meal.

She was enjoying it, even if it was just spaghetti; boiling water and putting in noodles, pouring canned spaghetti sauce into a pot and watching it boil. For a half hour she could take her mind off of things and have some control over something.

"What's cooking?"

She jumped. Josh had managed to limp into the kitchen and come up behind her, peering over her shoulder and trying to lift the lid of the spaghetti.

She slapped his hand away. "You're just going to have to wait, mister. Go back into the living room and watch tv."

"But it's an ad. And the press never got it anyway. There really isn't even a point of watching it, it's so damn spun and twisted, partially by us that it's not even worth watching."

"I like watching the news."

"_You_ like watching the news because you think George Stephanopolous is cute."

Donna blushed. "I also like to keep up on current events, is that so wrong?"

"We _are_ the current events, Donna," he told her, reaching again for the lid.

"It's not that mysterious, Josh. It's just a boiling pot of water."

"How do I know you're not trying to poison me?"

"Why would I poison you?"

"…I don't know. Maybe because you could do my job a lot better than I could."

She smiled, happy at his inadvertent compliment. She touched his cheek. "You're sweet. Now go sit down. You're not supposed to be moving around so much."

"I'm standing."

"Now you're going to go sit."

"I'm not going to break, you know, I'm not made of glass."

"It doesn't matter," she whispered.

"Hey," he said quietly. "Come here."

He held her, not too close because he still hurt, but enough for her to know that it was ok, that he was here, he was safe.

This wasn't right, she realized. She was the one taking care of him, not the other way around. Still, it felt so damn good, after having to take Tylenol PMs just to sleep at night, at jumping when the phone rang, at having to smile and pretend she was fine, to just be in Josh's arms, to know that he was ok.

It was going to be ok.

She smiled into his neck, just for a second, before stepping out of his arms.

"Go sit. Dinner will be ready soon."


	8. Chapter 8

Having Donna in his arms was quite possibly the best feeling in the world

Having Donna in his arms was quite possibly the best feeling in the world. It was better than winning, it was better than showing a Republican just who, exactly, they were provoking, better than being good at his job and knowing it.

Having Donna in his arms was _right_.

She was still cautious though, he realized. He wondered if it was because of what they were or if it was because of his still aching wounds.

Either way, he wished she was closer.

She stepped closer to him, just for a second, just to bury her face in his neck and smile, then she stepped out of his arms and told him to go back into the living room, that she would have dinner ready in a minute.

He was tired. He hadn't realized how exhausted he was until just then. He was used to exhaustion before, no one who had ever worked on a campaign wasn't, but this was worse. He felt like he hadn't slept in days, though he knew for a fact that he had gotten more sleep in the past few weeks than he'd done in three years.

He wondered the best way to ask Donna to stay with him. He didn't want to be alone, he was so damn tired of being alone.

He needed Donna.

He'd known that all along, it was nothing new. He wasn't quite sure how he functioned when she left to go with that jackass prick of a boyfriend, but it didn't matter, because she came back. She brought order to his chaos.

But this level of intensity, this crazy need to have her here, as if her presence could somehow heal him, this was new and he wasn't sure if he liked it.

He wasn't used to needing anyone. Not in that way.

"Joshua Lyman, go sit down," Donna commanded.

"How did you know I wasn't?"

"I could practically hear you thinking, which means you'll probably start walking around soon, which I forbid you to do."

"You know me too well."

"That's usually what happens when you basically spend every waking moment with a person."

Good. This was banter. Witticism. This he knew.

"So you know me better than your gomer boyfriends. I fail to see the issue here."

"Watch it, or I'll put you to bed with no dinner."

"I'm not five."

"Remember the rules, Josh."

"I don't remember any rules about not comment on your inability to find a suitable boyfriend."

"By suitable you mean one that doesn't exist."

_Damn right._

"No. Just no Republicans, gomers, guys only wanting sex with you and ones that keep you away from your job."

_And away from me._

These pills were messing with his head.

"Stop being Deputy Downer and go sit."

He did what he was told, flipping through the channels because he couldn't stand to watch the news anymore. Not when he really knew what was going on.

Not that CJ ever directly lied to the press. But there were things that they didn't know that he normally would.

He hated being outside the bubble.

Donna came to sit next to him, putting in front of him a plate of spaghetti.

"You made spaghetti?"

"Try not to get too emotional."

"No, seriously, thank you."

She blushed. "It's nothing."

"Mandy never made me dinner."

"She probably would have poisoned it if she had."

"Probably."

He loved Donna's smile. It was enough to make him grin the rest of the day. There'd been more than a few drunken nights when he thought how great that smile was. He would wonder if she would smile if he kissed her, or if the smile would be greater like he thought it would be.

"What are you thinking about?" she asked him softly.

"Nothing," he lied. Somehow, saying how he thought about her smile after he'd kissed her didn't sound quite right.

"I should probably be leaving," she said.

"Don't."

He didn't even think when he said that. It just came out of his mouth, which happened more than he would like to admit ("Lady, your God is too busy being indicted for tax fraud") but he was usually so careful around Donna, so careful of the finely drawn line. He couldn't possibly tell her to stay, it wasn't something…

Oh hell. He wanted Donna to stay. If he had to charm her and smile and do everything in his power to make her stay, then so be it.

She was going to stay, he realized as he looked at her. She made no move to grab her purse or give him a bunch of reasons why she couldn't. She just stared at him, as if she wasn't very sure what was going on.

He took a deep breath. "I mean, if you don't want to, that's fine. I just…I…"

760, baby.

She smiled. "OK."

"OK?"

"I'll stay."


	9. Chapter 9

He asked her to stay

He asked her to stay.

It was the closest thing to a declaration of love that Joshua Lyman ever got and Donna was willing to take it.

He looked so much like a little lost boy, so sure she was going to say no and preparing himself for it.

And even though she shouldn't, even though he was the third most powerful person in the West Wing, if not the entire United States and she was his assistant, she smiled and said yes.

For the first time in days, she saw him smile. Really smile. The smile he gave when he forgot to look for snipers and to stop walking so fast, the smile he gave when he forgot all the demons and baggage he had.

She took their plates, asking him if he wanted to watch a movie.

"I don't know, I guess."

"I got ice cream."

"Not those weird Ben and Jerry's flavors you love."

"Yes. But that's for me. I got you chocolate."

"Nothing with nuts?"

"Nothing with nuts."

Josh was so funny about his ice cream, though Donna supposed she shouldn't be surprised when this was the guy who ate charred burgers and food out of vending machines. She was pretty sure he would eat ramen noodles if it didn't involve boiling water.

She sat down next to him, handing him the ice cream and a spoon.

"Which kind did you get?"

"Pistachio."

"Why is it a weird green color?"

"It's pistachio, Josh."

"Ice cream flavors shouldn't be…nutty."

"Are you proud of your pun?"

"Extremely."

"Just eat your ice cream. What movie? You never said."

"You pick one," he told her.

She flashed him a grin before turning on the tv to surf through the channels.

"I think there is a Lifetime movie on. Or Steel Magnolias."

"God, Donna, do you want to kill me?"

"This is what you get for not taking the chance to choose your own movie."

"Fine! Find a baseball game. Or turn on CNN. Or…or…just not a chick flick!"

"No CNN. It'll just stress you out and I don't think there is a ball game on."

"No Steel Magnolias."

"No Steel Magnolias. It's too sad."

"Yeah, I never understood that."

"What?"

"Steel Magnolias is depressing to the point of absurdity. How anyone can take that movie seriously is beyond me."

"How about Jeopardy?"

"Only if you want to be schooled in my superior knowledge of trivia."

"Josh, you're basically an idiot savant. If it doesn't involve baseball or politics, you're clueless."

"I'm not an idiot savant."

It turned out that Josh was an idiot savant, though he was quick to point out that Donna had a head full of trivia whose only utility was Jeopardy and crosswords.

They watched The Daily Show after that. Donna was trying to keep his spirits up, trying to make him laugh as much as possible, trying to keep him together because she could barely keep it together herself.

She needed to email her parents tomorrow, let them know that she wouldn't be able to go up to Wisconsin like she thought she would. Josh usually gave her a weekend, when he was feeling benevolent, to go visit her parents, though most of the time it wasn't worth it because he would either call her inquiring of "the thing" that he needed for his next meeting, or find him in his office, looking very confused, once she made it back, the place looking like she never spent a night organizing it.

She came back to find Josh zoning out in front of the television, his head nodding back and forth as he tried to fight sleep. Donna sighed, now she had the fun job of waking him up to do his breathing exercises.

She shook him awake, murmuring to him that he had exercises to do.

"Don't want to," he mumbled.

"You have to, Josh."

He grumbled some more before sitting up straight.

"OK, breathe in…and breathe out…"

"It hurts," he complained.

"I know," she murmured.

She was there the first time they did breathing exercises, when he could barely speak, how the look of pain on his face was something she wouldn't forget soon.

"I…hate…these…" Josh said in between breaths.

"It's ok, honey. I know. Just get through it."

And just as the 't' left her lips, Donna realized what she had just said.


	10. Chapter 10

Did she…

Did she…?

Yes, yes she did. He might be in a terrible amount of pain right now, but that didn't mean that he was incapable of hearing.

Donna called him honey. And he was pretty sure she didn't mean it in the friendly, completely platonic way. But then, he was probably projecting, an action that he was rather proud of remembering from when he took psychology in high school.

He turned his head to look at her, the look on her face was almost comical. Her eyes were wide, her mouth a perfect 'o'. He didn't realize people actually did that. He always assumed that it was a cliché.

"What? Am I bleeding profusely?" he joked, hoping to diffuse the situation before doing something stupid, like kiss her.

"No-I mean, nothing. It's nothing."

He grinned at her. "Distract me. I hate these breathing exercises."

"How am I supposed to distract you?"

He shrugged, a movement he soon regretted. It hurt way too much. "Are you going to Wisconsin this year?"

"Probably not."

"Don't stay here because of me."

_No, that's not right. Stay here. Stay with me because I don't like the thought of you not being here._

"Do your exercises. I don't mind, you know. My mom will just tell me that I don't eat enough and ask why I don't have a boyfriend. I'm not missing much."

He breathed in, hating the constrictiveness of his lungs that the doctors told him would take a while to go away. He held it for thirty seconds, trying to think of a good reply.

"Are you sure? You look forward to it every year."

He always dreaded it.

"Yeah. I'll just email them tomorrow. Tell them that I won't be able to make it and I'll try to make the effort at Christmas."

"Maybe then you can go skiing."

She smiled at him. "I still don't have skis, though."

"I'll make sure to get on that," he said dryly, though he was pretty sure it was lost in his breathlessness.

"OK. You're done. Do you want a pain pill to help you sleep?"

"Please. I need it."

She gave him the pill, before going into his room. "Do you ever change your sheets?" she chastised him.

"I'm not home enough to even care," he replied, already feeling woosy from the pill.

"That is truly disgusting, Josh."

He shrugged, wishing that she'd stop talking and that his back would stop hurting, and maybe, just maybe, he'll be able to sleep without the dreams coming back.

Donna came back, still talking about how she had no idea how he manages to survive on his own. She smelled like some kind of flower, Josh wasn't really sure which, but it was nice.

"I'll be on the couch, ok? Just call if you need anything."

He nodded, not really wanting to take the effort to say anything, not entirely trusting himself once he realized how good she smelled and how soft her hands were.

She helped him into his bed, pulling the blankets up. "Sleep well, Josh," she murmured.

"Stay," he slurred. "stay with me, just for a little…"

"OK," he heard her say. He felt her run a hand through his hair, murmuring about how it looked like he'd stuck a fork in an electrical socket.

He hoped that she would keep running her hand through his hair, keep touching him because it was easily the nicest, most comforting feeling he'd felt in a while.

He woke up, though he was pretty sure it wasn't because of a nightmare. Josh couldn't remember anything, except that Donna made him dinner and then there wasn't something about the sheets.

He wasn't really tired now and he hurt like hell, but at the same time he didn't want to wake up Donna-it was early.

He could wait this out. He was tough.

OK, no, he wasn't. But he could just get up and get it himself. He was tough enough for that, at least.

He wondered if he would always be this sore, if getting out of bed would always be a challenge. He wasn't young anymore, as his mother liked to remind him. Of course, she was talking about grandchildren while he was talking about not being twenty anymore, but it was the same difference.

He was getting _old_.

He shuddered. After all, he was heading into the dangerous territory of middle aged, not only that but he was shot and more likely than not, he would be sore the rest of his life.

And there wouldn't be Donna to take care of him.

The thought was appealing though-a thought that had been running through his head ever since he asked-practically begged-her to stay. After all, she controlled his life in the office, she might as well control his life elsewhere.

But god, the scandal alone would overshadow the presidency. He would be made into a joke and Donna would never be able to find work in this town again. Leo would kill him, if CJ didn't get to him first. Then Toby…

He would never make it out alive.

But being able to kiss Donna would be _so _worth it…

He made it to the kitchen, popping two pills into his mouth. They couldn't work fast enough, he thought as the throbbing got more insistent in his side.

He heard a sob coming from the living room. He thought it was just an aberration, one of those noises that one heard that were just a product of an overactive imagination.

Donna was crying. He poked his head to watch her, to see if she was still asleep, if she was in the middle of a nightmare.

Her back was to him, so he couldn't see her face. Josh wanted to go over to her, shake her awake and-

Well, in his medicated head, kissing her would be an amazingly good idea.

He wasn't good with crying girls. It was usually his fault. Mandy would throw things at him, tell him it was his fault, but refuse to tell him what, exactly it was.

He remembered Joanie would cry too. Mostly over a boy, or there were the few times that he went too far with his teasing and he made her cry.

Or the time that she couldn't go to a concert and had to stay home to watch him.

So he naturally stayed away from crying girls and as much as he wanted to, as much as he just wanted to kiss it and make it better, he went back to his room and wished that Donna's nightmare would go away.


	11. Chapter 11

Now that Josh was asleep, Donna could admit that she had a thing for her boss's hair

Now that Josh was asleep, Donna could admit that she had a thing for her boss's hair. She loved how it stuck up and how he looked like he had just gotten out of bed in the morning. How it curled around his nape and how soft it was.

She told him how it looked like he stuck a fork in a socket, but she was just teasing, hoping that the banter masked the growing affection she was feeling.

She stayed until she started to fall asleep herself and was tempted to just crawl next to him and fall asleep.

She made her way to the sofa before she did something that she didn't want to explain in the morning.

She was so damn tired. She hoped that meant that she wouldn't have any nightmares, nor would she be unable to sleep, because all her things were at home. She didn't even have pajamas with her.

Oh well. She'd get them tomorrow. Or just borrow one of Josh's shirts.

"_Please, I'm Donna Moss, I work in the West Wing, senior assistant to Josh Lyman."_

"_I'm sorry, Ms. Moss. We can't let you in unless we can confirm your identity."_

"_But my boss-my friend-he could be…"_

"_I'm sorry. There's nothing I can do."_

_The dream shifted. Now she was standing in the waiting room, everyone's eyes on her. _

"_Donna, Josh's dead."_

_It felt like ice water had been dumped on her. _

"_What? What do you mean he's dead? I just talked-"_

"_They were too late. There's was too much-"_

_She screamed. She felt CJ hug her, telling her that she'd have a job, that it was ok. That Josh didn't suffer._

"_I loved him."_

Donna woke. She felt like she was going to be sick-she hated these dreams.

Josh could have died. No one seemed to understand that, not like Donna understood the concept. They went back to their lives, visiting him every once in a while, when they felt like it, but they went back to their jobs and pretended everything was back to normal.

She felt cold, even though it was probably still eighty degrees outside. She wrapped the blanket around her more tightly, going into the kitchen to get a glass of water.

Josh was alright, she reminded herself. He was safe and for the most part healthy. He would complain about being bored tomorrow.

He survived.

She went to check on him anyway. He was asleep, still, completely unaware that his assistant was acting crazy.

Satisfied that he was there and still asleep, she went back into the living room, turning on a couple of lights, hoping to find a book or magazine or something to keep her mind off of her nightmares.

There were tons of law books, the ones that Josh had liked and hadn't put them into the category of books he would sooner eat than read.

She pulled one on Constitutional Law from the shelves. She wonder if Josh had notes in the margins like other college students.

Just like she thought, she found his cramped, uneven handwriting all over the margins.

**Ridiculous argument. No one in their right mind would interpret the law like this.** Read one of the comments.

She laughed. It figures that Josh would argue with a text book. There were more comments, most of them disparaging remarks about Republicans.

She had a feeling that Josh was exactly the same now that he was in college, even down to his eating habits. One of the guys she should have met in college, instead of Dr. Freeride.

Still, if she hadn't met Dr. Freeride, she wouldn't have gone to find herself in the Bartlet campaign, and then she wouldn't have met Josh, so maybe it all worked out in the end.

She put back the law book, deciding to look through the cookbooks she bought, hoping that maybe she would find something even more impressive than spaghetti.

There were a couple of stir frys she wanted to try, along with a recipe for chicken alfredo.

She didn't even realize it when she fell asleep among her notes, the cookbooks scattered all over the place on the table, the place Josh found her the next morning.


	12. Chapter 12

This was truly agonizing

**AN: Sorry this took forever! Lots of stuff happened, so it took a while for me to get back into writing. But I did and here's the result. The next chapter, which I'm about to write, will be in Donna's POV followed by Sam's. I'll make sure to make clear whose POV is being used.**

This was truly agonizing.

He wanted to let her sleep, so he stayed in his room, wishing that he could call out to her, or, if he didn't feel so damn sore, he would go to her, insist that she tell him her dream so he could chase the monster away.

But, more than anything, he wished that he wasn't shot, so he wouldn't be out of the loop and he wouldn't be faced with the idea that Donna was more than Donna and he would, if not now, than soon, have to make the choice to cross a line that he knew would mean the end, or sit in this hell of wanting something he couldn't have.

A man, Joshua Lyman decided, shouldn't have to escape death only to face such a terrible decision.

He had to wake up.

He had to face her.

He couldn't stay in here forever, he reasoned. Eventually she would come to check on him and really, the thought of her in his bedroom, possibly sitting on the edge of his bed, insisting on check his bandages would be too damn much for him and he would have to face the fact that he wanted to kiss Donna Moss more than anything else in the world and he wasn't even sure if she felt the same way.

He got up, walked, shuffled if he was being honest with himself, to the living room, hoping to find her fast asleep on the sofa.

She was gone.

For a second he was paralyzed, seized with the thought that she was gone, that if he looked he'd find a note about how she thought it was best if he found a nurse to take care of him, because she couldn't anymore.

Yet no such note existed, so Josh went on a quest to find Donna.

The light to the kitchen was on and he smelled coffee. He smiled, thinking of how Donna only made him coffee once and that was when he was pretty sure that by the end of the day he would be looking for a new job.

He finds her sitting among a sea of books and notes, books that look like cookbooks, completely oblivious to the fact that he was leaning against the wall, just staring at her.

"Hey," she said throatily. "How did you sleep?"

He shrugged. _Miserable. I heard you sob and that's all I could think about. I wanted to go to you, but I can't because I'm a coward and if I'm really honest and I'm feeling particularly honest, I would say that I wanted to bring you to my bed because I'm pretty sure I'm falling for you and all I could think about was how you were on the couch-my couch and that it was distinctly unfair that you were not with me._

"Fine," he said flippantly. "You?"

She wouldn't meet his eyes. "Fine."

He sat next to her. "What is all of this?"

She shrugged again. "Just notes to myself. Now, you have an appointment with Dr. Geig tomorrow afternoon and then an appointment with a physical therapist next week. I'm going to the office today, but it's only for a few hours. Do you think you'll be ok? I wouldn't go, but I really need to get some things to Toby and Leo."

"I'm almost forty, Donna. I think I can take care of myself."

"But you're-"

"I know," he said shortly. He knew he was being rude, but he hated the fact that all she saw was an invalid.

He really wanted to prove her wrong.  
"Now that I have a better idea of what to make for dinner and lunch I'll do some shopping as well. I'll be back well in time for dinner and I'll have my cell phone if you need anything at all."

He nodded. "Can I have coffee?"

"Not until the doctor says so. The rules, remember?"

"Screw the rules," he said exasperatedly. "I want my damn coffee."

"No."

They stared at each other, her blue eyes burning into his soul.

"I'm not going to watch you kill yourself," she whispered, before standing up and leaving.

He heard the door shut behind her, wincing as the sound vibrated throughout the apartment.

"Shit," he muttered to himself.

He made himself some cereal. He was hoping something like Frosted Flakes, but Donna got him Cheerios, so he would have to make due.

This wasn't going to be a very good day.

After spending hours in front of the television, Josh had learned about the sociology of hippos and about genetic disorders.

His phone rang.

He hoped it was Donna. She hadn't called him all day and he wanted to hear her voice. But she was pissed at him, really pissed at him and she wouldn't be calling him any time soon, he thought.

A guy could dream though, couldn't he?

"You've screwed up."

"Thanks, Sam. I was a little confused on that. I'm glad that you came along and cleared that up for me."

"What the hell did you say to her, anyway? She was walking around here like someone had killed her puppy."

"Donna doesn't have a puppy."

"You're an idiot."

"Hey! Exactly whose best friend are you?"

"Right now not yours. Not unless you have a really good reason for being mean to Donna."

"How are you so sure I was the one who was mean to her?"

"Josh, somehow I don't think that it was the sandwich guy at the mess. Now, what did you say to her this morning?"

"She wouldn't let me have coffee."

There was silence.

"Sam?"

"You had her crying in your office over coffee?"

"She was crying?"

The thought profoundly disturbed him. Donna waited for him in his office, looking for him. He always made it a point to sit in his chair for a good ten minutes, right after she left it because he liked how it smelled like her. She didn't know he knew that she did this, that she sat in his chair and waited for him, just like she didn't know that there was a reason why no one was allowed to go near him for five whole minutes after a meeting. He gave her some bullshit reason of "I need to let it all sink in," but really it was so he could remember _why_. Why he did this job, why he worked eighteen hour days, why he got up in the morning.

It was worth it when Donna looked at him when he accomplished something.

"Yeah. You want to tell me why?"

"I heard her crying last night."

"Let me guess. You were a jackass and wanted to know if she was crying over a gomer of a boyfriend."

"No. She doesn't know I know."

"Look, just let you know you appreciate her, alright? Maybe take her to dinner when you're…"

"Not stumbling around in pain?"

"I was going to say when you were recovered, but yours works too, thought mine is definitely more euphemistic and free from negatives, which only serve to create an awkward cadence."

"You do know that I stopped listening half way through your sentence, right?"

"I would be surprised if you hadn't."

"Has she left the office yet?"

"Yes. She said something about having to run some errands and then having dinner with you."

Josh smiled. "Good, ok."

"You'll behave yourself?"

"Yeah. Yeah. I will."

"Good. Take her out to dinner or hell, go crazy and invite her to a movie. Just…don't be you."

Josh had the sinking feeling that he was screwed.


	13. Chapter 13

AN: Look at me, completely awesome, what with my TWO updates in ONE day

**AN: Look at me, completely awesome, what with my TWO updates in ONE day. OK, technically two days here on EST, but whatever. 12:28 still counts as Sunday. I'll be on vacation starting Tuesday, but I'm hoping to update at least once. **

She was being stupid.

Donna wasn't even sure why she was letting Josh get to her and really, it wasn't as if it was really anything except Josh being Josh. She should be happy, if anything, that he was demanding coffee and trying to get his way.

Instead she was going to the office and she was crying.

Damn.

She really didn't need this. She would run into CJ or Sam and they would see something was wrong and then the tears would betray her and she would find herself sobbing in the office of the Press Secretary to the Bartlet Administration or the Deputy Communications Director and either way, she would show how pathetic she was and how hopelessly in love with her boss she was.

It was all Josh's fault.

Luckily, she came into the office during Senior Staff and she was able to just smile at a few security guards and other assistants who wouldn't look to closely at smudged mascara.

Most of the phone messages and emails were well-wishes to Josh and a few requests for meetings. Those she could put off and sent off emails saying as much.

She was a pro at this now. She delegated and part of her liked the new responsibility, but not at the cost of her boss, her friend.

She felt the surge of anger that she felt every time she thought about Josh.

Which was more and more with each passing day.

"Hey Donna, how are you?"

She looked up, wondering how long Sam had been standing there and if he could see the tears that were threatening to spill again.

"Hey Sam," she said with obvious fake cheer.

She went back to typing. As much as she hated being rude, she really didn't want to have a breakdown in the bullpen.

"Donna?"

"Hmm?"

"Do you plan on ever answering my question?"

"Oh? Yeah. I'm fine."

"Really?"

"Mhmm."

"How's Josh?"

"Fine."

"What did he do?"

"What makes you think he did anything?"

"You're about to cry and I don't harbor any illusions that Josh isn't a jackass. What did he say?"

"Nothing. It's…nothing, Sam. Thanks, though."

"Anytime. And Donna?"

"Yes?"

"It's going to be ok."

She looked up at Sam, feeling the tears stinging her eyes again. He merely told her to keep in touch and to call him tonight. He had a meeting to go to.

She went into Josh's office, closing and locking the door and hoped that no interns would come and bother her.

She loved that Josh's office still smelled like Josh. She would come in here when he was in the hospital, just to remind herself that he would be ok and that there was still the Josh that would tear this office apart and yell for her and be unable to find a file, that the Josh that was in the hospital was only an aberration that would be remedied soon.

She wanted to swivel around and look for him, she wanted to know that he would be coming back from Congress, triumphant in his quest, ready to pump his fists in the air and request the finest bagels and muffins in the land.

He was going to kill himself. Figures that Josh, despite his obvious intelligence, would try too hard too soon and despite all of her pleas and her wishes, she would end up going to his funeral anyway, because he was just as stubborn as ever and unable to comprehend that he was shot.

Stupid Josh.

She brushed her tears, telling herself that she would see to his exercises and then go home so she could take as many sleeping pills as it would take to make the nightmares go away.

--

**Sam's POV**

Ever since Josh's leave of absence, Senior Staff had become more frequent and more hectic. Sam never realized how much stuff Josh actually took care of and most of that stuff was being bounced back up the chain of command to Leo.

"Does anyone know how Josh is doing?" the President asked.

"I visited him yesterday, sir. Donna brought him back from the hospital and he seems to be recuperating well. Though I should say that he is a lot more agreeable on pain pills."

The president smiled. "Good."

"OK, everyone, that's it," Leo said.

Sam turned to leave when Leo stopped him. "Come into my office for a minute."

Sam nodded, following the older man into his office.

"What's up, Leo?"

"How's Donna doing?"

Sam stuck his hands in his pockets. "The truth?"

"No, Sam. I want you to lie. Of course, the truth."

"Not so good. I'm afraid that this has really thrown her for a loop and Josh is too…Josh to notice."

Leo nodded. "She's taking care of him at his place, isn't she?"

"As far as I can tell."

"Think they'll realize how crazy they are about each other?"

Sam smirked. "Not unless Josh's beaten over the head with the knowledge, and even then it's a toss up."

"Keep an eye on her, will you? We can't afford to lose both her and Josh."

Sam nodded. "I will."

"Thanks, Sam."

He took a walk through the bullpen and he felt the pang of sadness he usually felt whenever he came through here and didn't hear Josh bellowing for someone, whenever he saw Donna sitting at her desk looking like she just lost everything.

Like she did right now.

He went over to her, the conversation with Leo still fresh in his head.

"Hey Donna," he greeted. "How are you?"

She was biting her lip, concentrating hard on the keyboard. She looked like she was trying not to cry.

"Hey, Sam," she said. Her voice was too high, too controlled to be natural.

He was going to kill Josh for putting her through this and being too stupid to realize this was tearing her up.

She gave him one word answers and eventually he took pity on her and left, making her promise to call him.

But right now, he had to go berate a certain idiot.

"You've screwed up," Sam declared.

"Thanks, Sam. I was a little confused on that. I'm glad that you came along and cleared that up for me."

At least he knew, Sam thought. There was nothing worse than a clueless Josh when it came to what he'd done wrong.

"What the hell did you say to her, anyway? She was walking around here like someone had killed her puppy."

"Donna doesn't have a puppy."

Sam sighed, wondering if it was terrible that he wanted to strangle his injured best friend. "You're an idiot."

"Hey! Exactly whose best friend are you?"

"Right now not yours. Not unless you have a really good reason for being mean to Donna."

"How are you so sure I was the one who was mean to her?"

"Josh, somehow I don't think that it was the sandwich guy at the mess. Now, what did you say to her this morning?"

"She wouldn't let me have coffee."

There was silence.

"Sam?"

"You had her crying in your office over coffee?"

"She was crying?" Josh's voice did that thing where it got really high and panicky.

"Yeah. You want to tell me why?"

"I heard her crying last night."

"Let me guess. You were a jackass and wanted to know if she was crying over a gomer of a boyfriend."

"No. She doesn't know I know."

Sam knew that their particular brand of misdirection towards each other was years worth of practice, though he was occasionally still surprised at their ability to be completely oblivious, even to themselves.

"Look, just let her know you appreciate her, alright? Maybe take her to dinner when you're…"

"Not stumbling around in pain?"

"I was going to say when you were recovered, but yours works too, thought mine is definitely more euphemistic and free from negatives, which only serve to create an awkward cadence," Sam rambled.

"You do know that I stopped listening half way through your sentence, right?"

"I would be surprised if you hadn't."

"Has she left the office yet?"

"Yes. She said something about having to run some errands and then having dinner with you."

Josh smiled. "Good, ok."

"You'll behave yourself?"

"Yeah. Yeah. I will."

"Good. Take her out to dinner or hell, go crazy and invite her to a movie. Just…don't be you."

He got off the phone to his best friend, part of him hoping that at the end of this they would finally see what everyone else did.

But mostly he hoped that Donna would be sane enough to make it there.


	14. Chapter 14

He waited

He waited.

It was probably the first time in Joshua Lyman's life that he did anything of the sort, but he was waiting and he would wait forever if he had to for Donna.

Sam was right. Sam, more often than not, was right, especially when it came to relationships. Josh was always the geek, the one that had girlfriends but those girlfriends had to understand that come finals time, there would be no dates.

There were the few times that he had tried to be "normal" and date, but most of the time it just didn't work out and he got so caught up in something that eventually the girl would just break up with him in frustration.

Sam, meanwhile, was able to date even while being in college and more importantly, in this hell-hole of a job.

So, it was all fine and dandy for Sam to tell him to charm Donna, but Josh really had no idea how to do that.

Sure, he gave her a book where he wrote an amazing note to her, when she hugged him and he realized how good she smelled and how much he wanted his present to be the best one, but he was pretty sure that it was the work of divine intervention rather than the work of him.

Even if he was god like.

That and he couldn't walk fifteen feet without having to sit down. Now Sam wanted him to take her to dinner or something.

He couldn't even get her flowers.

She came in, looking like hell. He could always tell when she had been crying, because she would always forget the corners of her eyes when she was trying to wash the mascara away. She carried some groceries with her, along with a files in her black leather tote bag that she carried around with her everywhere.

"How was the office?" he asked. Maybe he needed to establish a conversation, maybe she would be happy Donna again.

"Fine," she said with no intention of telling him more.

He walked into the kitchen. "You get everything you needed?"

"Yes."

"Still hot and muggy outside."

"Unfortunately."

He was getting tired of her one word answers. He wanted to yell at her, tell her that he had done nothing except be the normal him and he would not act like an invalid forever. He would tell her that he was more than scar tissue, more than breathing problems. He would tell her that he might now not be in the best shape of his life, but to believe him, he was more than all man and he was more than willing to show her.

He gritted his teeth. "Fine," he bit out, walking away from her.

He couldn't stand to be on the damn couch anymore, he was on it all day. Instead he made his way out onto the pathetic excuse for a deck in his apartment. It just overlooked the small courtyard, but there was a woman across the way determined to beautify it with flowers, so at least there was something to look at. That and he couldn't stand the frigidity coming from Donna.

She was right, it was unfortunately hot and muggy, the type of oppressive heat that made one want to howl in frustration. Though, Josh thought, it could be because Donna was both angering the hell out of him and making him love her for it.

He tried to rationalize his love for her at first, saying that it was the love of a brother, but then, when he realized just how amazing she would look in a ball gown, he decided that it was just because Mandy had broken up with him, again and he wanted a rebound.

Then, once the White House was theirs and Mandy was gone, he didn't take too much time to think about his relationship with Donna. He loved her, sure, but that's because she was an amazing assistant and friend.

It was platonic.

Now he was not so sure. When he was shot, his first thought was the President, his last thought was Donna. In the hospital he just wanted her there, he was always at peace when she was. Suddenly, very suddenly, he needed her and, more importantly, he wanted her. He wanted to be with her more than just at the office. He caught himself thinking about what she would taste like, if her skin was as soft as he thought it was.

Now she wouldn't look at him. She was there out of obligation and he hated the thought. If she was going to be here, if she was going to take care of him, it had to be because she wanted to be here, because she cared about him.

"Why are you out here?"

He didn't to turn around, didn't want to see that the concern in her voice didn't meet her eyes, that she was just here because she thought he was pathetic and needed babysitting.

"I needed to be."

"It's disgusting out here. Come inside."

"Why?"

He wasn't sure why he asked, but now he wanted to hear her answer. He needed to hear her answer.

"Because you shouldn't be standing around anyway. You should be inside so I can go back to dinner and you can rest. Like you're supposed to."

_Like you're supposed to._ Throughout his entire life he did what he was supposed to do and sometimes it turned disastrous. He was tired of doing what he was supposed to do.

So he stopped.

He turned around, surprised at his own speed and agility. She was closer than he thought, but he didn't mind. He grabbed her, pulling her as close as he could when a groan escaped him as her hands brushed his still healing scars. He wasn't sure if it was out of pain or out of pleasure, but at the moment he truly didn't give a damn.

He kissed her. He wasn't what he imagined their first kiss to be.

It was a thousand times better.

He kissed her for all he was worth, pulling her closer still, wrapping his fingers in her hair, loving the fact that he finally could.

She wasn't kissing him back, he realized. She stood in his embrace, just taking it as if she was merely a mannequin.

Now, this wouldn't do.

He broke the kiss, taking the time to explore her face with his lips, ghosting them over her cheeks, her eyelids. Marveling how truly amazing it was when he just didn't do what he was supposed to.

"Josh," she murmured.

He ignored her, instead moving his lips to the place where her neck and her face met, realizing that he could do this forever and not be tired of it.

She groaned, leaning into him just slightly before speaking again.

"We can't do this."

"Like hell," he growled.

He kissed her again. He hated being told what to do and he was pretty sure this was the best thing since politics.

But she still wasn't kissing him back.

He drew away, unable to kiss her when he could tell she wasn't enjoying it.

"Josh," she said softly.

"Save it. I shouldn't have done it. I'm sorry."

With that he walked past her, going into his bedroom and shutting and locking the door, unsure if he wanted to punch something or realize that no matter what Sam thought, the geek never got the girl.


	15. Chapter 15

She had every intention of going back to her place, hope that her roommate wasn't there so that she could put on Alanis Morisette, Dido and Jewel on her CD player, pour a glass of wine and when she got a spine from that wine, she would call Josh, tell hi

She had every intention of going back to her place, hope that her roommate wasn't there so that she could put on Alanis Morisette, Dido and Jewel on her CD player, pour a glass of wine and when she got a spine from that wine, she would call Josh, tell him exactly what was what and then tell him to find himself a German nurse because she was through babysitting him.

Instead she turned a left, then a right and found herself at Josh's apartment even though she told herself in no uncertain terms that she wouldn't.

She carried in a few groceries that she got from the store, just a couple of things like strawberries and vegetables for stir fry.

To his credit he tried to make conversation, asking about the office, the weather, the groceries. But she couldn't bring herself to answer more than a word at a time.

He got frustrated and Donna hoped that he had gone back to watching tv so she could just cook in peace and hope that she could be able to answer with more than one word.

She felt the heat and the silence after a while and realized that Josh wasn't watching TV like he was supposed to be, but when was Josh ever doing anything he was supposed to be? She put the stove on low, venturing out into the living room to find him.

The glass doors were open completely to reveal him standing on the balcony, overlooking the courtyard below.

He looked so young and so old at the same time. She wanted to go to him, wrap her arms around his waist and just take the time to stand there and realize that he was alive, that somehow it wasn't as draining as she thought it was.

She asked him why he was out here when she really wanted to ask him why he insisted on breaking her heart, why she felt like she was never going to be the same ever again.

"I needed to be."

She was going to cry. She was able to fight it, hide it most of the day but now it was threatening to become a torrential downpour like the thunderstorms that they had so often in D.C.

Come inside, she had told him. Like you're supposed to.

It was the wrong thing to say.

His eyes glittered out of anger, out of desire, out of damn tension that existed for years before this point.

And now he was going to make her pay.

She had imagined their first kiss since they danced at the first fundraiser that she ever went to, when she realized that Joshua Lyman could look damn fine in a tux and when he smiled at her in the way that he always smiled at her, her insides felt like jelly and she was weak at the knees.

She expected a small kiss at an inaugural ball when they had too much to drink. She expected a passionate onslaught in his office.

This kiss was desperate. This was the kiss of a man who had nothing more to lose and couldn't bear the fact any longer. This was a kiss of a man not looking to seduce her but to merely satiate the emptiness and hunger inside of him.

She froze, forcing herself not to kiss him back. She wanted to-she dearly wanted to, but she couldn't bring herself to cross that line, to give into everything.

Not until she knew that he was kissing _her._

He broke the kiss, starting an exploration of her face, her cheekbones, everything, it seemed like.

"Josh," she murmured, whether to tell him to stop or to continue, she wasn't very sure.

He moved his lips to her neck.

A groan escaped between her lips. She wanted to let him keep doing that, let him take this as far as he wanted to and she would just be here for the ride.

"We can't do this," she told him softly.

"Like hell," he growled. It was easily the sexiest thing Donna had ever heard and she wanted to hear it again. And again and again.

He met her lips again and the effort to not kiss him was beginning to be too much. She wanted so much to kiss him back, wanted so much to love him, but she couldn't cross that line. Not alone, not knowing that he was there with her.

"Josh," she whispered.

"Save it. I shouldn't have done it. I'm sorry."

Before she got a chance to say anything, he walked past her, into his bedroom, shutting the door.

She felt the tears spill over. He hated her now and even worse, he hated himself.

And she would probably never get to kiss him again.

She went back into the kitchen, still crying. The stir fry was still simmering. She finished it, turning off the stove and cleaning the kitchen as best as she could.

She knocked on his door, told him that dinner was ready. She received no answer, not that she really expected one.

She ate alone, figuring that she should at least eat something before she left. This was too awkward, she thought. She had to stop pretending that line didn't exist.

She packed her things, knocking on his door again. She was pretty sure he wouldn't come out, which would save her the embarrassment of having to face him.

"Josh? I have to leave now. I'll see you tomorrow."

Silence.

She realized then that part of her hoped that when she told him that she was leaving, that he would burst open the door and tell her no. It was movie-esque, sure, but she still wanted it.

Instead the door remained shut.

Donna realized, with a sinking feeling, that Josh's apartment was more like home to her than her own apartment. Sure, she had stuff here-her stuff like the blankets her grandmother had made for her, the antique chair that was the first thing she bought with her paycheck. The various pictures of her and Josh…

She should have just accepted the kiss. Maybe they would have been able to go back to the way things were. Now, he was probably sulking in his bedroom and he'd forget to do his breathing exercises and…

No, she couldn't do this. She was going to have a glass of wine, take a long, hot shower and go to bed. Then tomorrow, after work, she'd call him.

Yeah.

She could do this.

Donna poured a glass of wine, decided to take a bath instead of a shower, got the book that she'd been putting off reading and set out to relax.

She must have fallen asleep, she reasoned, otherwise she would have heard the pounding on her door and Josh's yelling.

"Donna!"

"What in the hell?" she muttered to herself. It couldn't be Josh. Josh wasn't allowed to move. Josh wasn't allowed to drive or take a cab or whatever he did to get to her apartment and he REALLY shouldn't be yelling.

It would only hurt him later.

"DONNA!"

"I'm coming!" she called, getting out of the now cold water and into a bathrobe.

She opened the door to find Josh, looking exhausted and hurt and very much determined to say whatever it was that he was going to say.

"Joshua Lyman! What in the hell are you doing? I can't leave you alone for an hour before you go and do something as stupid as this! You're an idiot, you know that? You've been shot and you must hurt like hell and instead you're too god-damned determined to have your own way, as usual, to even take care of yourself!"

Now she'd done it. She was crying now and hiccupping and she was willing to bet that she looked like a royal mess.

She wants to just slam the door in his face, tell him to go away and really, she can't do this anymore.

But she won't. She looks in his eyes and all the anger and hate that she has for him goes away and she sets him down on her sofa, pours him a glass of water and sits next to him.

They sit in silence for a while, just sitting when she realizes he's fallen asleep.

And he hasn't done his breathing exercises.


	16. Chapter 16

He went to her

He went to her.

He wanted to, needed to, had to.

If he was anything of a man, if he would be able to look back on the day when it was really hot and he still felt like shit and he made Donna mad and then he kissed her with everything he was, he hoped that he would be able to say, no matter what happened, that at least he tried.

The thought that there was the possibility that he lost her, that he grossly miscalculated her feelings for him, consumed him and he couldn't breathe, making him think of Rosslyn and how he could feel the breath leave his body and the pain take its place, just like now when he thought that Donna was going to leave him.

He knew the way to her apartment just as well as he knew the way to his and it was really nothing, taking a taxi to her place. He'd done it when he was drunk and had set out to tell her that he had a crush on her, but ended up yelling at her roommate's cats instead.

He took her for granted, he knew that. He knew that most bosses didn't complain when their assistants brought them lunch and he knew that most bosses didn't make their assistants stay during their lunch break and he knew that most bosses didn't give a damn whom their assistants dated, but Donna was different from the rest of them. She was better, so much better than them.

And he quite possibly lost her.

A thunderstorm threatened.

He made it to her apartment, throwing some money at the taxi driver before running up the stairs and using the spare key that he kept he let himself in, banging on her door on the fourth floor with all the strength he could muster.

She didn't answer.

Why should she?

He kept knocking and shouting anyway. He had to. He had to see her.

He finally heard her shout that she was coming and he almost collapsed, everything that was threatening to escape just dissipating at the sound of her voice.

She opened the door in her bathrobe and her hair was sticking to her skull and dripping onto the terrycloth and she looked beautiful, like an angel and suddenly he can't think or breathe or move, all he can do is just stare at this beautiful angel who is currently yelling and crying and he can't figure out why, but all he wants to do is make it stop.

Then she stopped. She looked at him and then led him into her apartment, where he found himself on her couch, next to her after she gave him a glass of water.

He wanted to say he was sorry, that he didn't mean to kiss her, well, he did and he can't say he's sorry for the very first time he's felt something so profound as kissing her, but he's sorry that he made her cry and he's sorry that there are bags under her eyes and that Sam had to tell him he was a jackass because he couldn't see it himself.

But above all, he wanted to ask her to stay with him, because he didn't think he could do this alone.

He woke up because of a nightmare.

Donna had been shot this time. Sometimes it was Sam, sometimes Leo and even once it was Joanie, but this time it was Donna.

This wasn't like the others. It was more vivid, more alive, more unsettling. He hated it.

Donna looked at him with her huge eyes, begging him soundlessly to fix her, while he stood, paralyzed, watching the blood gush out of her.

"Donna!" he screamed.

She came to him instantly, murmuring consolations and endearments, her voice calming him down instantly.

"Tell me what happened," she whispered.

"You died," he said blankly, expressionlessly. There was nothing in him anymore. It was taken out when they took out the bullet.

"I'm right here," she whispered, her voice so sound and sure, he thought. He couldn't help but believe her.

"I didn't leave. I wasn't there, remember? I was safe, at home. It's ok, Josh."

"I couldn't save you."

"Oh Josh," she murmured. "You really know how to get to a girl, don't you?" he had a feeling she wasn't talking to him just then, that she hadn't meant for him to hear and he remembered how she left, how there was now this break and he wasn't very sure what to do, now that she was holding him and he was holding on for dear life and he really shouldn't be doing this, but here he was.

If he was brave or crazy or both, he would have kissed her and she would kiss him back, in the scenario in his head, and then she would suddenly be under him and there wouldn't be any time for him to dream or think or feel.

"Come on, I'll make you some tea," she said. "We'll watch T.V."

He only nodded, incapable of saying anything, not when he was as occupied as he was with the thought of a passion-crazy Donna.

"I'm sorry," he mumbled when she handed him a cup of tea.

"For what?"

"I made you leave. I was being stupid and I'm sorry. This isn't a part of your job description and I'm difficult, I know and annoying and it isn't…fair for you to have to baby sit with me."

She started to cry.

Josh hated it when she cried.

"Oh, Josh, I'm sorry I made you think that I didn't want to do this, because I do. You're my friend and, well, let's face it, someone needs to take care of you and I've been so out of my mind lately and I'm sorry. It's really not your fault and you have to stop thinking that. I…"

"You what?"

She shook her head. "Nothing. Nothing. Let's watch T.V."

She sat on his non-injured side, leaning her head on his shoulder.

He couldn't concentrate on CNN, with Anderson Cooper talking about some world affair and Josh couldn't bring himself to really care. It wasn't like international affairs were his thing, anyway. He was much more of a domestic policy guy anyway. But, more importantly, he wanted to figure out what Donna was going to say, whatever it was that had made her blush like that and look done. I…don't mind doing this. I think you're really good at this guilt thing so I'll take care of you? I don't like you that way Josh, and hey, remember, I'm your assistant?

He sighed. She was leaning against him now, asleep. She needed it. He wondered if she had gotten any sleep, ever. She never left his bedside when he was in the hospital and when she wasn't there she was at the office, delegating things and keeping the chaos at bay for him. He had always taken it for granted, just so happy to have someone to stay with him when he couldn't sleep that he didn't notice the purplish bruise-like circles under her eyes, how instead of looking like she was 28 she looked 38 and she just didn't seem like Donna anymore.

It was his fault.

This was his fault.

To be fair the shooting wasn't. It wasn't his fault there were ignorant morons in the world who wanted to destroy others happiness. He was glad he was shot and not the president. He was happy that he didn't die and he would be back to work soon.

But it was his fault that Donna would always see him as the Josh unable to take care of himself, the Josh that needed help putting on a shirt, the Josh that needed physical therapy. The Josh that had nightmares and had to be comforted like a little boy. It was his fault that no matter how much he loved Donna Moss, and he did love her, she would never love him back. It was probably for the best, he thought morosely, considering the majority of Republicans would act like Christmas had come early and use this to bring down the administration. Donna would lose her job and Josh would be humiliated.

It was better that she didn't love him back, he convinced himself before he went to sleep.


	17. Chapter 17

**A/N: I know it's been a while-in fact, it's been over four months and for that I'm sorry and I hope you can forgive me. I had a review a while back wishing that Donna wasn't so mean to Josh, so I hope this chapter explains that she's hurting just as much as he is, just in a different way.**

She had to take Josh to physical therapy because Josh needed to get better again. She had to go to work, because Leo had some things for Josh to look at. She had to be there for physical therapy, otherwise there would be no one there to help him, to make sure he was okay...

Suddenly it was too difficult to breathe and she wanted to cry, she wanted to leave, she wanted to get out of this place where all she could think about was how Josh almost died.

It was morning already. She and Josh were still tangled up in each other one her sofa and part of her wondered if they could just stay there-surely an intern could send over whatever it was that Leo needed Josh to read, and surely his physical therapy could be rescheduled. Surely this wasn't as hard as she was making this to be.

But it was. It was just as hard as she thought and she doubted it would get better. She was going to wake up every day and have to live with the fact that Josh could have died that day and she would never have the chance to say good-bye or anything of the things that suddenly would **not** go away.

She hoped at the time that it was just a school-girl crush on the kind teacher. Josh had taken her in, like a stray puppy and taught her everything she knew, he talked to her like an equal, not like some dumb girl with silly questions. He needed her, and she needed him. She thought, for a while, that something could happen, that they could be together, but then they came to Washington and she was okay with that. It wasn't torturous, like she thought it would be. Yeah, sometimes she wished that he would just push her up against a wall and kiss her, but what he was doing, what they were doing, was so much more important that her stupid crush. And then he was shot. She wasn't even there, she wasn't there to take care of him and he got himself shot and she had to watch him-she had to watch him almost die and she would be damned if she ever had to go through that experience again.

And then she would be reminded that they were still Josh and Donna, that nothing had changed. This was probably what pissed her off the most, the fact that despite that he almost _died_, despite the fact that she would have had to somehow pick up the pieces and start over again was inconceivable to her, that something had to have changed, yet here he was, still being Josh, still being stubborn and sometimes stupid, but always Josh, and there was a weird logic to his decisions.

He kissed her. He kissed her yesterday. But he didn't love her. He didn't love her like she loved him. He was just lonely and while she couldn't really blame him, she didn't want it to be like that. She didn't want to wake up and be unable to hide the fact that she was stunningly and irrevocably in love with him, while he would make staccato apologies and try to avoid her. He wouldn't be able to look her in the eye, and suddenly there would be a transfer to another office, she suddenly would find herself at a different desk and she would see him in the hallways and she would call out his name, but he would be too busy with his new assistant to even notice his one night stand.

It had to mean something, _they _had to mean something. If he decided to take that next step, if he wanted her as much as she wanted him, that was different. He would be there with her when they crossed that line. She wouldn't be alone.

He stirred next to her. She needed to stop thinking so much-she would just end up in an endless spiral and watch the free fall happen. So she ignored the fact that she would quite possibly in love with her boss and she ignored the fact that she was paralyzed with fear at the thought of him dying, smiled, and said good morning.

"Your couch sucks."

She rolled her eyes. "I'm sorry if it doesn't reach the Lyman standard, but I'm a girl on a budget."

"Was there a good reason why we couldn't be in a bed right now?"

Donna blushed. "Because you fell asleep on the couch."

Josh grumbled something about coffee.

"I'll make some in a minute. You have physical therapy in two hours and I'm going to the office because Leo wants your opinion on a couple of things."

"I don't want to go to physical therapy."

"You have to go to physical therapy."

"It's going to hurt."

"It's going to help."

Josh chuckled. "Did you notice that your responses mirrored mine?"

Donna smiled in spite of herself. "Yeah."

"Kinda cool, isn't it?"

Donna nodded. "I'm going to make coffee. Make yourself at home."

"This is practically home," he told her. "I've spent enough time here to consider it home."

She smiled and blushed again. It was so easy to think about them living together, to let herself go to that place where she could think about them waking up together, making coffee together, fighting together and loving together. It was so comfortable and so right that she became scared of it, because there was no way that life would actually work out like that.

"Don-na, where's the paper?"

"Right outside the door," Donna called, jarring herself away from her stupid fantasy. "Remember, only the sports, style and health and/or home sections."

"Those sections are boring. Except the sports."

"You're supposed to avoid any stresses, Josh. So no front nor metro section for you."

"You're mean. And fired."

"You can't fire a friend, Josh."

"Oh," he seemed quite put out with the idea.

She put in the required cream and sugar into his coffee and came back out to hand it to him.

"Thanks," he said, taking a long sip.

"You probably shouldn't have coffee," she half-heartedly admonished him.

"You gave it to me," he said.

"I can't make just one cup of coffee. I have to make two."

Josh raised his eyebrows, waiting for an explanation.

"I always made coffee for my family, so it was always at least four cups. And then, with Chris-"

"Dr. Freeride?"

"Yes, Josh, Dr. Freeride. With Chris I always made at least two cups. Usually one for me and one for him, unless he needed more. I'll make two cups of coffee if my roommate and I happen to cross paths. But I hate making just one cup, it seems so lonely, somehow..."

He looked adorable just then, looking like the Josh no one knew except for her, the one that actually had a heart, despite what everyone in the Senate thought. He held her gaze for a few seconds too long and she wanted to say something, anything, or hell, just kiss him, but he was Josh and she was Donna and it couldn't be like that. So she cleared her throat and offered to take the coffee mugs back into the kitchen.

"Did you want to change before physical therapy?"

He shrugged. "I don't have to. It doesn't really matter."

"It's killing you that you can't wear a button down and a tie, isn't it?" she asked him.

"It's like waking up every day and realizing that I'm not who I used to be."

She started to cry and she couldn't stop. The tears kept coming and the weight was so great that she wasn't sure if she could handle it anymore.

"Donna? Are you crying?" Josh said from the doorway.

"I'm fine, Josh," she said, wiping her eyes, hoping that he wouldn't notice.

"No, you're not," he said quietly.

That just made the tears come more.

"Donna," he said quietly.

She took a deep breath, steadying herself, trying to find some way to make the tears stop.

"I'm fine, Josh. We need to get to physical therapy."

He stared at her for a long moment, obviously trying to decide if he believed her or not.

"Yeah," he told her, "okay."


	18. Chapter 18

She wasn't okay.

It never occurred, not really, to Josh that Donna would be affected by this. She wasn't there, she hadn't been hurt, yet she was just as affected as the rest of them-him and Sam and CJ and the President.

The real heartbreak was she was trying to not let him see-she was hiding it and suddenly her rules and the way she acted-her exasperation when she used to ignore him suddenly made sense.

She would deny it if she said anything to him. She would put on that hideous fake smile of hers and tell him she was fine. He hated that word now. He hated how trite and deceitful it was. But she would continue to tell him she was fine and he would continue wanting to shake her, make her realize that as long as she said she was okay, he would no use to him or herself and why couldn't she see that? What was the point of waking up in the morning if she wasn't there with him?

Where did that come from?

He was concerned about her because she was his employee, his friend. Life would be worth living. He'd be able to wake up. He wouldn't wish that she was there next to him.

Oh hell, who was he kidding?

Still, he couldn't put this on her shoulders. She was hurting and he had to make the hurt go away. He could be preoccupied with his feelings when he should be helping her.

He went into her bedroom, peeking around the door first to make sure she wasn't there, of course, and then making sure that the water of the sink was still going so she couldn't hear him.

"Leo McGarry's office."

"Margaret, it's Josh. Is he busy?"

"Josh! How are you? Is Donna doing okay? We haven't seen her in a while."

"I'm fine, Margaret, and so is Donna. Can you put me through to Leo?"

"Why haven't we seen Donna in a while?"

"Margaret, get off the damn phone and let the poor boy talk to me," Leo's voice interrupted. "What's on your mind, Josh?"

"I'm worried about Donna."

Leo sighed. "We've been worried about her for a while. What's going on?"

"She was crying in her kitchen."

"What happened?"

"I don't know! She just started crying and I didn't know how to make it stop. She told me she was fine and now she's in the bathroom. She's been in there a while."

"Okay," Josh could literally hear Leo thinking. "Josh, I think Donna should talk to someone. Would she be open to the possibility?"

"I don't know. I think so."

"She's supposed to come into the office today, right?"

"Yeah."

"I'm going to talk to her, see how it goes."

"Okay. Thanks, Leo."

"No problem, kid. We all care about Donna. We don't want to see her hurt."

"Of course."

"She keeps you grounded. And bearable."

Josh snorted. "Yeah, she does."

"I'll call you later."

Josh set the phone down, ran his hand through his hair. He was deputy chief of staff, for Christ's sake. He should be able to think of a solution, he should be able to fix this. Fix them.

Yet he had no idea what to do. Sam tried to warn him about this, tried to tell him that Donna wasn't okay, that she was going to burn out, but he didn't listen, he continued to believe that as long as he closed his eyes and pretended everything was okay, it was, even if that meant ignoring everything around him.

God, he was a terrible person.

She came out of the bathroom and before he had the chance to react she was in her bedroom, getting out of her t-shirt while calling out over her shoulder to him that she would be done in a minute and then they could go to physical therapy.

"GAH!" She screamed, followed closely with, "Josh, what the hell are you doing in my bedroom?!"

He knew he should probably say something. He should probably explain that he had to make a call to Leo, except he was too distracted by the fact that she was currently just wearing a bra and even though the pain killer had worn off hours ago, he was too distracted to notice the pain, or the fact that she was currently sputtering and trying to put on her t-shirt and telling him to get out of her room. Instead, he wondered what would happen if he just kissed her, if there was a penalty if he canceled his appointment, because he found something much more interesting to do physically.

Then he found herself in the hallway, with the door locked, with her yelling at him to go sit on the couch.

This clearly wasn't working the way he wanted it to.

He did do what he was told, however. She came out sometime later wearing a new t-shirt and still blushing over what happened.

She prattled on about how she was going to take him to physical therapy and how he had to listen to the therapist and then she was going to drop him off and then go to the office to pick up the files and then she was going to cook him dinner. He wished he could say he was paying attention to what she was saying, but for once he was more concerned with her actions, how she looked. Not for appreciation, though he'd known since the moment that he met her that she was pretty, but rather to see if she _looked_ any different. She looked older, like someone had aged her five years. She looked liked someone placed the world on her shoulders and she was going to break under its weight. She looked _fragile_, he realized. She didn't look like the Donna who had handled his life for the past 3.5 years.

He let her prattle on, every once in a while nodding and agreeing with her as she shepherded him out to the car, when she realized she forgot her purse and went back to get it.

It was hot again today, the car still unbearable because there was no circulation of air. It made him ache, made his lungs burn with the difficulty of breathing.

"There," she said breathlessly. "Now we can leave and with any luck we should make it on time."

"They'll see me no matter what," he said confidently.

She rolled her eyes. "Just because you're Josh Lyman doesn't mean that you can just get your way all the time, including be late to physical therapy."

"Yes, it does. Can we listen to NPR?"

"No. We're going to listen to actual music. Do you remember what music is?"

"Yes, I remember what music is," he said defensively. "Just don't put on that gooey pop stuff."

She played with the controls for a while, before giving up and concentrated on driving.

"We're going to be late."

"We're going to be fine."

They entered the parking lot of a big building that Josh thought looked more like an office than a medical facility. Donna assured him that it was indeed a medical facility, with a cardiologist and a psychiatrist and a oncologist and more importantly, a physical therapist.

Josh was grateful for the air conditioning, which didn't work in Donna's car.

"Where's the physical therapist?" he asked resignedly.

"Second level," she told him, looking at a directory. "Come on."

They rode the elevator up, the silence creating an elephant that threated to push them out of the elevator.

"I didn't see anything," he said abruptly.

"Yeah, right," she said to the door.

"Really! I looked away!" He winced as his voice got way too high for a man his age.

"What were you doing in my room?"

There was no way out of this one. He would have to tell her the truth.

"I was making a phone call."

"A phone call."

"Yes."

"Why my room?"

"I didn't want you to come out and overhear."

"Who were you calling?"

"Can we talk about this later?"

"No, Josh, because you were in my room and were making some mysterious phone call and I want to know why."

Luckily, the elevator door opened. The elephant, however, stayed with them.

The physical therapist's office was too bright, Josh thought. It was too bright and too white and smelled weird.

It did, however, have coffee. Maybe this place wasn't so bad.

He made his way to the coffee while Donna talked to the receptionist, collecting all the papers that he would have to fill out and he would just delegate to her.

"Joshua," she said in a deadly voice.

"Fine," he sighed, putting down the coffee pot he had poised above a paper cup.

"You had some this morning."

"I want more."

"No, it's bad for you."

"How is it bad for me?"

"It'll stunt your growth."

The receptionist laughed. "How long have you two been married?"

"Oh," Donna blushed, flustered. "I'm just-I'm just his friend."

The receptionist smiled. "Of course."

He sat down next to her, flipping through a Newsweek as she filled out the papers for him.

"Who do you want as your emergency contact?" she asked.

"You, of course," he said, reading an article about archeology. Or something.

"Really?"

"Yeah. I don't have anyone else."

She smiled, really smiled, and for a second Josh worried she was going to cry, but looking at her biting her bottom lip as she filled out her cell phone number and work number he finally felt like he had done something right today.

"Josh Lyman?" an athletic guy, roughly thirty, asked.

"Yeah?"

The guy pointed behind him. "Come on back. I'm Rick, your physical therapist."

"How's it going?" Josh said as he followed the therapist, looking back to Donna who was still at work on the forms.

"Have you ever had physical therapy before?"

"No."

"Okay. I'll go ahead and tell you that you will most likely hate me during your visits, but I am a trained professional, so I do know what I'm doing. The object is to get your abdominal muscles healed and working again after their ordeal. It's going to hurt, but it will not only help your breathing but make you look better, if that's any consolation."

"Oh, goody," Josh said sarcastically.

"Josh, be nice to Rick," he heard Donna call.

Rick chuckled. "Your wife?"

"No."

"Girlfriend?"

This guy was too interested in Donna. He probably would ask her out on a date while he was writhing in pain from Rick's torture.

"No, she's just a friend. But she's not dating right now."

Rick raised his eyebrows. He looked like a Ken doll, like the one Joanie had.

He led Josh into an examination room. "I want to listen to your chest and get a better handle on your lung capacity right now."

He had Josh take a couple of deep breaths, not bothering to warm the stethoscope that was freezing on Josh's back.

"You're doing your breathing exercises?"

"Donna makes me."

Rick chuckled. "Good. Are you keeping the bandage clean?"

"Yes."

"Good. Okay. Your lung capacity is a little below average, but it's nothing serious. What I want you to do now is take a deep breath and hold it for as long as you can, then exhale slowly."

Josh held his breath for a few seconds before letting it out in a rush.

"Good God! Are you trying to kill me?!"

"Not on purpose," Rick said nonchalantly. "Don't let the breath out so rapidly."

Josh did so, wishing that Donna was there so he could hear her encouragement, feel her hand on his back, urging him to keep going.

Soon he was able to hold it for fifteen seconds, then twenty.

"Fantastic work, Josh. You're making a lot of progress."

"My lungs are on fire."

"You've stretched them, that's why. I want you to do those exercises twice a day, once when you get up and then when you go to bed, okay?"

"Yeah, sure."

"Okay. Once the stitches come out, then you're going to start doing sit ups."

"Excuse me?"

Rick smiled. "You heard me. You're going to need to rebuild those muscles and what better way to do so than work for a six-pack?"

"You're enjoying my pain and discomfort way too much."

Rick's smile got wider. "I have a feeling these are going to be at the very least interesting sessions. I'll see you on Thursday."

Josh went back out to the waiting area, where Donna sat, reading a book.

"Well?" she asked, looking up him expectantly.

"He's a sadist."

"He's doing his job."

"He brings others pain."

"To make them better."

"No, not really. Let's get out of here before he decides to start torturing me again."

She got up, telling him that she was going to make him a sandwich for lunch and then go to the office and be back by five.

"And you'll give me my files?"

"Yes, though if they upset you too much I'll take them away from you."

"How am I supposed to run a country when you're withholding information from me?"

"Only information that hinders your health. I'm doing you a favor."

"No, you're not. You're preventing me from doing my job."

"In an effort to keep you alive, how cruel of me."

They rode back to his place and he hoped that the air-conditioning there, he couldn't honestly remember.

"Who were you talking on the phone with?" she asked him suddenly.

He wondered if he should tell her the truth, or if he could lie to her. He lied to her, sometimes, but he hated it. He was also bad at it, she always knew and she always had that disappointed look on her face like she expected more of him.

"I can't tell you," he told her.

Her eyes narrowed. "Can't, or won't?"

"I can't, Donna."

"I don't believe you," she whispered.

He shrugged. "You don't have to."

She looked on the verge of tears again and it killed him that he was the one who made her this way. But he couldn't tell her, he didn't have the words to tell her that he talked to Leo and he thought that she should see someone because she wasn't Donna anymore.

She walked with him into his apartment, not speaking to him the rest of the way. She made him lunch while he watched the news and didn't say a word when he muttered about the news anchors.

"I'll be back around five," she told him.

"Okay."

"Be good."

"I will."

"Promise?"

He nodded solemnly. "I promise."

She nodded. "I'll be back soon."


	19. Chapter 19

She was slipping. Josh didn't believe her. He was looking at her oddly all day and she wanted any excuse to not leave him by himself. She had this sudden, irrational fear that he wasn't going to be okay, that Rick the therapist had pushed him too far and that now he was in a massive amount of pain and there was nothing she could do about it.

It was exhausting, being constantly worried. She was tired and it was only mid-afternoon.

_'I've been half alive but I'm mostly dead' _Jewel sang on the radio on the way to the office.

Donna snorted. Yeah, she knew how that felt.

She needed to get over this. She needed to stop dreaming, she needed to stop thinking, she needed to stop feeling like Josh was already dead and she might as well be too.

He was alive and mostly well. He'd be okay, at the very least. Soon he'd be terrorizing the West Wing again and it would go back to normal. She would go back to her apartment and not worry if Josh had enough food or if he had slipped in his shower and hit his head. She needed a break. There were lots of people to take care of Josh, she could get CJ or Sam to keep him company. She could even hire a nurse. But she couldn't let herself. As sick as it was, she didn't trust anyone else to look after him.

The bullpen was happily busy. Nobody would really notice her. The files she needed would be waiting for her on her desk, she could collect them and go.

"Ms. Moss?" an intern asked.

Donna sighed. Normally she had remarkable patience with interns, answering their every question and always tried to be nice about it. "Yes?"

"Mr. McGarry's office sent me."

"And?" she winced, she shouldn't be so short with the poor intern, but she needed to get to Josh's so she could make sure he was okay and she could finally sleep.

"He would like to meet with you."

"Oh. Alright, I'll be right there."

"Er..." the intern hesitated, obviously having more information to impart and not wanting to do so.

"What is it now?"

"I'm supposed to escort you there, Ms. Moss."

Donna raised her eyebrows. She had only been to Leo's office a few times, but he never sent someone to _collect_ her. She was vaguely insulted. Did Leo think that she was going to avoid him? That she was just going to blow him off? What in the hell was going on?

The intern walked with her through the halls, every once in awhile casting a nervous glance at her, like she was going to yell or perhaps turn around back to the bullpen and the intern would be forced to either drag her back or tell Mr. McGarry that Ms. Moss would not be coming. Neither of those options really appealed to the intern.

Leo was sitting at his desk, writing something when Donna walked into his office.

"Donna," Leo said with a warm smile. "How are you?"

God, why did people keep asking her that question? "I'm fine, Leo. How're you?"

"Good, good," Leo nodded. "And Josh?"

"Making progress. He hates physical therapy."

Leo chuckled. "I'm not at all surprised."

Donna fidgeted nervously, still unsure what this meeting was about. She doubting it was just small talk.

"Josh called me today," Leo said.

"Oh?"

"He's worried about you, Donna. He told me you were crying today and he didn't know why."

Hearing Leo tell her that Josh actually cared, that he worried, even, made her want to cry all over again.

She shrugged. "I was tired. It's been a stressful week."

"I don't think that's the whole story, Donna."

She raised her eyebrows, challenging him.

"Sam also has talked to me. He's been worried for a while as well. He thought it was just Josh being...Josh, but he's voiced his concerns to me as well."

"Well, that's great for Sam, Leo."

Leo sighed. He wondered if those two had any idea how stubborn they could be.

"If you don't mind I have a lot of work to do, and then I have to get home so I can help-"

"Donna, I think you should talk with someone."

Donna took a deep breath. "Leo, I'm fine. I've just been tired. It makes me emotional. Working for Josh when he's healthy is a challenge, but that's nothing compared to Josh injured, and I have to make dinner and make sure he does his exercises and make sure he doesn't stress out and...and..."she started to sob and she didn't know how to make it stop.

"Donna," Leo said quietly.

"Damn it, Leo, I'm fine!" she yelled.

Then she realized that she just yelled at the Chief of Staff for the White House and her boss.

She turned white. "Leo, I'm so sorry, I didn't mean-"

He raised a hand. "If anything, it proves my point that you should see someone. Josh needs looking after, I'll admit, but how are you going to achieve that if you aren't looking after yourself?"

Donna only nodded, feeling like she was in the principal's office all over again.

"Josh is nothing without you, Donna. If I allowed you to fall to pieces I'm not sure he'd recover."

She took a deep breath, steadying herself. "Okay."

"Do you know what ATVA is?"

She felt better, on the way home. She was still exhausted, but she didn't feel like she was drowning. She would need to make sure Josh didn't find the papers on ATVA Leo gave her, there was no need to let him know, not yet. She would have to, eventually, if for no other reason other than he would bug her wanting to know where she was going.

He was sitting on his sofa, watching the news.

"Hey," he greeted. "How was the office? Is it in deep mourning because I'm not there?"

She laughed. "Yeah, Josh. Federal government has basically shut down and even the interns are wearing black armbands."

"I know. The place must be so lonely without me."

She made her way to her bedroom, putting the ATVA papers in a desk drawer where Josh couldn't find them.

"I'm going to make chicken tonight, is that okay?"

"Can we have Chinese food?"

"No, I'm making dinner. Live with it."

"Okay," he said. "Everything go okay today?"

"Hmm? Oh, yeah. Everything's fine."

She saw him wince.

"Are you okay?" she asked. "Do you need more pain medication?"

"No," he said hurriedly. "I'm fine."

She stared at him for a few seconds, obviously trying to find anything signs of pain. He was in pain, thanks to Rick the living Ken doll, but he wasn't going to let her see, he had to be lucid for this, for her, for tonight.

He was lying to her, but she was willing to accept it. The look in his eyes told her that no matter how much she tried, she wouldn't get him to take any pain meds.

She wondered what was on his mind. He looked like he wanted to say something, and as it always did it made her smile, the look in his eyes that he wanted to say something, but he wasn't sure how to say it and he wasn't sure how it was going to be received and he was thinking too much and he was nervous and it was cute, in Donna's opinion. Josh once told her that she was the girl in elementary school that he made fun of, but he was the guy in high school who was incredibly sweet and incredibly egotistical and more than likely incredibly nerdy, but Donna would have secretly thought he was cute and wished that he asked her out to the homecoming dance.

"Here are the papers that Leo wanted to look over," she told him.

"Thanks," he took them and started pouring over them.

She made dinner, ravioli in Alfredo sauce with mushrooms, and found Josh still looking over the memo.

"Everything okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine," he said distractedly.

"I made you dinner."

"Oh," he said, looking up. "Thank you. It looks great."

She sat across him in his living room, watching him as he read the memo, then reread it and reread it again. He hadn't touched his food.

"Josh," she said quietly.

"What?"

"You haven't touched your food."

"I'll eat in a second."

"You've read that memo at least twenty times now. What is it?"

"It's a memo on hate groups."

"Oh..._oh_."

"Yeah."

"Are you okay?"

"I don't...I can't concentrate right now."

"Josh, I don't think anyone expects you-"

"People, Donna, expect me to do my job. They expect me to tell the President that it's politically advantageous for him to do one thing over another. I'm supposed to know everyone and everything that's going on and I'm supposed to read these memos and give him advice and they expect me to be good at this and I _am_ good at this, it's possibly the only thing I am good at and I don't know how to tell the president that he should go after hate groups but he's going to have to be careful of free-speech when right now I really want to put qualifications on the bill of rights, including, but not limited to, not shooting at the president and not being a god-damned Neo-nazi!"

She stared at him, wishing that she had the right thing to say, but she didn't. She was coming apart and he was coming apart and this shouldn't be about it, not for a second, but for the life of her she didn't know how to make it better.

"Josh, you're amazing at your job, and you're good at a lot of things."

He looked at her and he looked so desperate, like he was drowning, just as she was and neither of them knew the answer to the question that lay before them.

She got up, walked over and sat next to him, taking the memo out of his hands.

"You're good at this," she whispered and kissed him.


	20. Chapter 20

Donna was kissing him. She shouldn't be, she was in a fragile state and what if she was just kissing him because she needed to feel something, anything, like he did when he kissed her?

Then he realized he was kissing her back, that despite the fact that his head was full of logic and righteous indignation because, after all she had refused his kiss and he was a damn fine kisser, that despite all of this he was kissing her, ardently, his hands sliding up her waist and the underside of her breasts, and he wondered why it was that he hadn't allowed himself to do this before. There was a reason. A multitude of reasons, yet he couldn't remember a single one.

She moaned into his mouth and he forgot about recalling those reasons, he cast them away, cast everything away except for the incredible woman in his arms right now, and she swung her leg around to straddle his waist. He was lost and he couldn't say that he honestly cared.

He continued to kiss her, touch her, try to remember everything about her, because there was a very good possibility that this would never happen again.

He was damn well going to enjoy himself, even if they were making out for all the wrong reasons.

Well, he wasn't. She probably was, though.

She was an amazingly good kisser. He had a feeling she would be. He imagined, and had imagined for a while, that she would be a fantastic kisser and he was always pleased when he turned out to be right.

He wondered how far he should let this go. He wanted to let this go all the way, he had _dreamed_ of letting it go all the way, but what he wanted to do and what he should do were often two very different things. He should tell her to stop, that if she was going to make this decision, she was damn well going to do it because she wanted him and not for any other reason. He should tell her that there was going to be hell to pay. He should tell her that he was in her same position a week ago, wanting so desperately to lose himself, to forget that he was shot and he hurt and he had scars now.

So far what he wanted was winning out, he wasn't breaking the kiss but letting it go on for as long as she wanted. He was running his hands through her hair. He was wondering if he'd be able to carry her to his bedroom.

He wanted to kick himself for thinking so much about this-he finally had Donna kissing him and here he was not enjoying the moment like he should, but debating with himself on whether or not this was what he should be doing!

She slowed the kiss from the passionate onslaught, finally leaving her lips to hover above his.

"I wanted to forget," she whispered.

"So did I," he whispered back.

"I wanted to kiss you back," she continued. "When you kissed me a week ago. I wanted to kiss you back but I couldn't."

He nodded. "I know. I didn't take offense."

Donna smiled. "Yes, you did. I wounded your ego."

He smiled back at her, relieved that they were able to smile after this. "Not a lot. It'd take a lot more than your valiant attempt to resist my kiss to completely destroy my ego."

She rolled her eyes. "I don't think an atomic bomb could destroy your ego."

He nodded. "Probably not."

They both realized at the same time that she was still on his lap and it was too easy to just stay as they were, with his hands on her hips. She cleared her throat, sliding off his lap to her previous spot next to him, the memo glaring at them from the floor, as if the eyes of Leo, CJ and the entire administration were looking at them accusingly.

"We shouldn't."

"No. I mean, yes, we shouldn't. I mean-"

"I get it."

"You're Deputy Chief of Staff."

"And you're my assistant."

"It would kill the administration."

He turned to look at her. "Would it?"

Her eyes widened. "Of course it would."

"CJ could spin it. She's smart."

"Josh, we both know how ridiculous this job can be. You really want to give our relationship a death sentence before it's begun?"

He ran his hands through his hair. This had the potential to be one of _those_ conversations, the ones where no matter what he said it was the wrong thing and he still wondered how in the hell women were able to do that.

"Of course not," he said. He was really rather pleased with his answer. It was just ambiguous enough that he wasn't digging a hole and he was pretty sure it was the right answer. It was the truth, at any rate.

"Besides, what would happen if it didn't work out? It'd be a mess, Josh. We can't do this." Donna had begun to pace the length of his living room, almost frantically.

"This," she gestured between them, "can't happen."

"What? Taking one step forward and then two steps back? Kissing each other when we feel like we have nothing left to lose and then acting like everything is just the way it should be once we're back to normal? Pretend that we're not hurting so much that we both about to break?"

"Yes."

He hadn't expected that answer. He had hoped instead that it would be like the movies, that she would wrap her arms around him and they would kiss and then curtain would go down.

"What do you expect to get out of this, Josh? What do you want? Are we supposed to heal each other and make it out like some lame movie? Are we supposed to walk into the West Wing together and just ignore all the stares? Am I supposed to not hear it when people call me a whore? Should I just ignore the fact that you're a workaholic and I won't ever see you outside of the office? Am I supposed to just smile and swallow after we break up and I have to schedule time for you to see your new girlfriend?"

"No," he told her.

"You're supposed to tell me when these people obviously forget who I am. You're supposed to remind everyone that no one gave you your job except for yourself. You're supposed to drag me out of my office come hell or high water and accept my apology of flowers when I forget. You're supposed to be there and remind me every single day like you have for the past four years why every woman I've ever dated just ends up an ex-girlfriend." He rushed over to her, taking her face in his hands.

"You're supposed to remind me why I come to the office every single day. You're supposed to make me contemplate the many uses for my desk and how none of them have to do with work. You're supposed to make me smile when I want to scream and remind me that I'm not a god when I demand the finest muffins and bagels in the land."

She smiled a little through her tears. "It's a perk of the job."

"See? Who else is going to go up against me and tell me that I can't have the finest muffins and bagels in the land?"

"Please don't leave me, Donnatella," he whispered.

"Oh, Josh," she cried, throwing her arms around him.

They stayed like that for a while, standing, their arms around each other.

"I couldn't leave you," she said into his shoulder. "You wouldn't last ten minutes."

He smiled into her neck. "No, I wouldn't," he answered truthfully. "Come on," he told her. "Let's watch some TV before passing out on the sofa."

"Josh! You can't do that! The doctor said you have to sleep on your back, so your lungs can heal."

"Are you going to stay and make sure that happens?" he asked her, desperately hoping the answer was yes.

She smiled. "Of course."

His smile matched hers. "Good."

She made him do his breathing exercises at the commercials. For once, he didn't complain, after everything they had both been through, it would just be cruel for him to bitch at her tonight. It was a little easier, just a little. It didn't hurt as much.

"You didn't complain. Are you okay?" she asked him.

"Yeah. It didn't hurt as much," he told her semi-truthfully.

"Good, good," she said. "I'm really happy for you, Josh."

"Thanks," he told her.

They sat on the couch together, watching the news.

"It's getting late," Donna murmured.

"You can go, it's okay," he told her quickly.

She blushed. "Only if you want me to," she said to the floor.

"I don't want you to," he told her, the conviction in his voice making him embarrassed. But he slept better, knowing that she was around, that she was near him. Otherwise he wasn't able to sleep.

"Your place is nearer to work anyway," she told him.

He smiled. "You just want to spend the night," he teased. "I'll have you know that I don't put out on the first date."

She raised her eyebrows. "Has it been so long since you've been on a date that you've forgotten what a date is?"

"It's been a while, but I still think I remember a thing or two," he told her.

She laughed. "I'll keep that in mind."

He stood up, stiffly, and winced. "Go ahead and find something to change into. You can't possibly sleep in a skirt."

She nodded, going into his bedroom. "Do you have any preference what I take?"

"Not really." _Honestly the thought of you in any of my clothes is enough._

She changed into a pair of shorts and one of his old Harvard t-shirts. He suddenly had a new appreciation for Harvard College t-shirts.

"Mind if I use the bathroom really quick? I desperately need to wash my face."

"Yeah, go ahead."

"You know," he called through the door a few seconds later. "I'll need you to make sure that I'm lying on my back, you know, make sure I don't crush my lungs or anything. I'd hate to not follow doctor's orders."

She opened the door, then continued washing her face. "And what makes you think that I put out on a first date, Joshua?" she asked his reflection.

He thought she was being serious until he saw the smirk on her face. "Hey, you're my nurse, right? You promised the doctors I'd do everything they said. Besides, I'll be the perfect gentleman."

"Well, you _are_ injured. I don't think you could do anything in your condition anyway," she teased.

"I thought I proved you wrong earlier tonight?" he asked her innocently.

She only smirked and splashed water on her face. "Get into bed, you look exhausted."

He did as he was told, trying to remind himself that this was simply for medicinal purposes, that he really shouldn't read anything into this. The kiss was just out of desperation, just as it was a week ago for him. It was nothing, he should forget about it. They weren't dating, they were friends.

Yeah.

She laid on top of the covers next to him, on her back, just as he was.. They sat in silence, in the dark for a while and sleep was threatening to come to him.

"Just so you know," she said into the darkness. "That kiss was really nice."


	21. Chapter 21

**Look! I didn't die! Yay me! (Also, shameless plug, a happy birthday to me as well) At any rate, I wanted to thank for existing and providing the quotes from In the Shadow of Two Gunmen Part I found in this chapter.**

**Oh, and one last thing-this is just part one of a two part chapter, which will hopefully be up soonish. **

She smiled, wishing that she could see Josh's facial expression. She wondered if it was the deer in the headlights look, when his eyes got really big and his mouth was slightly open...

She was kind of tempted to kiss him again.

She was also tempted to giggle. She felt like a giant weight was lifted off of her and all she do was laugh.

She felt him pick up her hand with his, trailing his fingers on her skin and all thoughts she might have had of going to sleep followed his fingers down her skin. Her breathing hitched as his nails lightly scratched the inside of her wrist, his thumb rubbing circles on her palm.

She clutched the sheet with her other hand, reminding herself that Josh was her boss and he was injured. It wouldn't do to explain that Josh tore his stitches because she jumped his bones.

She felt like she was on fire, which she marveled at, considering that all he was doing was holding her hand, yet she felt like she was going to explode if he so much as kissed her.

He turned to his side and she opened her mouth to tell him to stop it, that she would not be held responsible if he hurt himself, that they couldn't cross this line.

He hovered above her mouth and she really thought that he had lost his mind and right now she wasn't very sure she cared.

He lifted his head. "I thought it was only fair that we both be up for the same reason."

She wanted to kill Josh.

She woke up frustrated, thanks to Josh's antics, and took a cold shower. Feeling better, she came out to find him on the couch, reading the newspaper.

"I put the coffee on," he told her.

She arched an eyebrow. "Is this your way of apologizing to me?"

His face was a mask of innocence. "For what?"

"I didn't get any sleep last night."

"Sorry, did I take all the covers?"

"No, you took my hand and did the thing and I couldn't sleep!"

"Donna, if you can't handle a guy holding your hand. I mean, I know I'm da man and all, but..." he trailed off and grinned cockily at her.

Donna blushed, at a loss for words and uncomfortable with the new element to their banter.

An uncomfortable silence settled over them.

"I, uh, better go," she told him.

"Okay."

"Don't get into trouble."

"I promise to amuse myself while you're gone."

She blushed again, her head taking a turn he'd rather not take.

He looked at her quizzically. She said something about leaving and practically ran out before she did something stupid.

She closed the door behind her, taking a breath. Sure, Josh was cute, not like Sam movie-star cute, but cute in a dorky sort of way. He was absolutely useless and probably wouldn't survive without her. He looked nice in a tux, especially white tie. And it was all fine and good to have this secret crush on her buss, but it was totally different when she had to acknowledge it, when he was forcing her to face the possibility that it wasn't just something that caused an errant thought and made her smile, this was something that was very much real and threatening to consume her.

She took a deep breath. Maybe Leo was right. Therapy was a good idea.

For once she hoped that she didn't see anyone around the West Wing. She wasn't very good at lying (especially to CJ, since CJ could always tell when people were bullshitting her because she was Press Secretary and she just had that look that made Donna want to tell her the truth and Sam had such a puppy dog look to him that she would be telling him the truth before she knew it and that wouldn't work...) so she hoped there was a meeting or maybe people would see her and not take a second thought.

Luckily, no one wanted to stop and chat and she met Leo in his office.

"Donna," he greeted her, standing up. "How are you?"

"I'm fine," she said automatically. "How are you, Leo?"

He smiled. "I'm well. I trust Josh is behaving himself?"

Donna blushed, remembering last night. "Yes," she said quickly.

Leo stared at her. Donna inwardly groaned. She knew better than to lie to Leo, of all people. He was a master politician. He could probably tell her lie a mile away and now he was going to call Josh and chew him out and Josh would freak out and-

"Donna?"

"Yes?" she squeaked.

"Are you okay? You look a little flushed."

"I'm fine."

"You're nervous."

"Well..."

"Donna, you're flushed and I'm pretty sure you've squeaked on numerous occasions during this conversation."

"Sorry, sir."

"He's doing okay?"

Donna nodded. "Yes, he's doing okay."

"Good. Go get yourself fixed up."

Leo led her to one of the (many) conference rooms in the West Wing. There was a female seated at one end, looking at a file.

"Dr. Loyola," Leo said.

The woman stood up. She wasn't very tall, about a head shorter than Donna. Her black hair was pulled back and she wore black frame glasses. She smiled, sticking out her hand.

"You must be Donna."

"Hello," Donna said, extending her hand.

Dr. Loyola took it. "Have a seat. Mr. McGarry," she nodded.

"Thank you, Doctor," Leo said as he left.

"So, Donna, You are the Deputy Chief of Staff's assistant?"

"Yes, I'm senior assistant to Josh Lyman."

"And you've been his assistant for how long?"

"Since the campaign."

"Wow."

"What?"

"Well, from what I hear Josh Lyman is not an easy man to work with. The campaign was almost four years ago."

"Josh isn't so bad once you get to know him."

"I've been told that you've had a lot of job offers over the years."

"Yes, which is funny, since I don't have a college degree."

"But you work for Josh Lyman. That counts for something."

Donna nodded. "A friend once told me it's the equivalent to having a MA in politics."

"Yet you've stayed with Josh."

"You dance with the one who brought you, Doctor."

"So you feel beholden to Josh for giving you a job?"

Donna laughed. "Don't let him hear you say that."

Dr. Loyola smiled. "You didn't answer my question, Donna."

"No, I don't feel "beholden" to Josh. I like my job. It might not be the best paying job ever, but I have friends here and I work for a good president who is trying to do some good."

Dr. Loyola watched Donna and Donna continued to meet her gaze.

"Mr. Lyman was shot in March."

"Yes."

"Were you there when it happened?"

Donna felt a pain in her chest. "No, I wasn't."

"So you weren't told until after it happened."

"I saw on the news that there was a shooting at Rosslyn and the President had been shot. I had insisted that Josh let me have the night off-he didn't want me too..."

"_But Donna! I hate going to these PR events!"_

"_And I hate having to go to the dentist. Sometimes you just do what you have to."_

"_Can't you just come with me?"_

"_Josh," Donna sighed. "Eventually the world will not revolve around you and I won't be here to make sense of your chaos because I'll have found a job with better pay and vacation days and a boss that can drink with the best of them and doesn't need a babysitter."_

_Josh pouted. "But that's not happening soon, right?"_

"_Have a good time in Rosslyn, Josh."_

"_I don't like you."_

"_Likewise."_

"But he let you take off," Dr. Loyola said.

Donna nodded. "I didn't tell Josh, but I had a date that night."

"Why would your boss care that you were on a date?"

"Josh is of the opinion that a boyfriend will interfere with my work and he tends to suddenly have work to attend to at the IRS whenever I have a boyfriend."

"You're telling me that he was your boyfriends audited by the IRS?"

"Yes."

"That seems...severe."

Donna smiled. "Josh likes to send a message."

"How was your date that night?"

Donna shrugged. "It was okay. He was kind of boring. He suddenly had a thing and I wasn't all that upset by it. I went home to go to sleep early, took a shower, put on the news before bed when I found out."

"Did you know about Josh?"

"No. The news focused solely on the President."

"When did you find out?"

"When I got to the hospital. When Toby told me."

"_Donna. Josh was hit."_

"_Hit with what?"_

"_He was shot--in the chest."_

"How did you feel?"

"How do you think I felt? I had just found out that my best friend had been shot."

"Your best friend."

"Yes."

"But he's your boss."

"He can't be both?"

"That's a rather...unorthodox working relationship."

Donna let out a hallowed laugh. "Dr. Loyola, this is the White House."

Dr. Loyola nodded. "Fair enough. So you stayed in the hospital?"

"Yes."

"The records show that you signed in to see Mr. Lyman the night he was shot and didn't leave until he was put into a private room in April."

Donna blushed. That didn't sound good. "I left to get food and...stuff."

"But you were essentially at his side 24/7."

"He doesn't have anyone else."

Dr. Loyola looked at her notes. "His mother came to visit on March 31st, yet you stayed."

"Someone needed to make sure Mrs. Lyman was okay. I can't imagine it was easy to see her son in the condition that he was in, especially after all she's been through."

"Okay."

Donna shrugged. "I would have done it for any of my friends."

"Would you?"

"What do you mean?"

"I think that you wouldn't have."

Donna raised her eyebrow.

"Donna, I've done my research. I know that you haven't left his side since he was shot. Mr. McGarry told me that you have effectively become his nurse and live at his home and he at yours. Are you really going to sit here and tell me that Josh Lyman isn't more than your boss?"

"What do you want to know, Dr. Loyola? Are you hoping to find some scandal?"

"No, Donna. This isn't some political scheme. I'm not writing some expose. I'm just trying to help you and I can't do that if you're keeping things from me," Dr. Loyola said in her maddeningly calm voice.

There was silence as Donna thought. She didn't know this Dr. Loyola-sure, she looked nice but that didn't mean that she wouldn't call up the Washington Post the second Donna admitted that she had a thing for her boss and the administration would catch hell for it.

"I care for Josh a lot," Donna said in a low voice.

"I think that it's a little bit more than that, Donna."

"What do you want me to say, that I love Josh?"

"Do you?"

"Sure. In the same way that I love Sam and CJ and even Toby."

"But would you really be willing to drop everything to care of them as you were for Josh?"

"I'd come over with some chicken soup."

Dr. Loyola sighed. "Donna, here's what I think. I think that you love Josh in a romantic way. I think that when you heard that Josh was shot your entire world collapsed and you have been trying so hard to not face the fact that Josh means so much to you and it's become too much."

Donna shook her head, knowing that the words were true but still going with her gut instinct that she felt anything towards Josh.

"Oh please. You spent a month by his bedside. You're practically living with him. If you're going to sit here and tell me that you yelled at Leo McGarry just for the hell of it, then I might as well just leave right now, because we're going to get nowhere."

Donna said nothing, looking down at the table. Dr. Loyola sighed, getting up to leave.

"This conversation will not leave this room, right?"


	22. Chapter 22

Dr. Loyola paused at the door.

"Of course, Donna."

"I mean, you won't tell Leo what I said in here? This won't, literally, leave this room?"

"No, Donna. I promise you, whatever you tell me will not leave this room."

Donna took a deep breath, then deciding to just say it before she chickened out and didn't say a thing.

"Josh and I kissed last night."

Dr. Loyola sat back down. "And now you feel conflicted, because he's your boss."

"Yes," Donna said, gratified that someone said it and was able to put it so succinctly.

"Josh kissed me, a week ago. I thought it was just because he was lonely and hurting and depressed."

"But you didn't feel that way, did you?"

"No."

"How did you feel, Donna?"

"I realized that if Josh had died at Rosslyn part of me would die too and I wasn't ready to face that yet."

"What about now?"

"I...I don't know."

Dr. Loyola nodded. "Who initiated the kiss last night?"

"I did."

"Why?"

"I guess for the same reason Josh kissed me. I felt lonely and hallow and for once I just wanted to feel something."

"And did you?"

For the first time in a very long time Donna laughed.

"Did you ever swing on a swing really high and then jump off and for a second, a very brief second, it seemed like you were flying?"

Dr. Loyola smiled. "I think I know what you mean."

"Does Josh feel the same way?"

Donna's smile faltered. "I-I don't know."

"You don't?"

"No. I mean, what if he doesn't? Then things would be awkward and it would all be ruined."

"So you would rather not know than know for certain?"

"It's worked well so far."

Dr. Loyola raised her eyebrow. "Really?"

Donna nodded. "He's my friend. All of this kissing is just from the stress."

"Do you honestly believe that, Donna?"

"Yes. I may love Josh, but I have no idea how Josh feels about me and I would really rather not test that theory."

"But do you think you'll be able to work together, even though you have feelings for your boss?"

"I'll just have to be able to, won't I?"

"You're going to deny your feelings?"

"Yes."

"But that wasn't working, Donna. You knew that you were in love with Josh and the realization that Josh could have died was too much for you. What are you going to do when Josh has a girlfriend? Or if someone makes a threat on his life again? Are you going to be able to process it?"

"I don't know."

"You don't know."

"I'm not in those situations, Dr. Loyola. Right now I have a sick friend at my apartment who needs me, and everyone around me thinks I'm a basket-case. Meanwhile, my boss and I are toeing lines we shouldn't and I don't know about your silly hypothetical situations. So if you could tell me what's wrong with me, tell me how to fix it so I can fix Josh, I would really appreciate it."

"Donna, you can't fix Josh."

"Yes, I can. I make sure he does his breathing exercises and goes to physical therapy and doesn't overexcite and eats right. I'm fixing him."

"But is that simply all? Or are you hoping to fix more than just the injury?"

"Dr. Loyola, with all due respect, no one could get Josh to change unless he wanted to."

"And did you ever think, Donna, that he was doing these things for you? That if you weren't there to make sure that he was doing these things, he would have reverted back to his old ways?"

"Oh, yes. But that's only because Josh needs a babysitter. You didn't tell me what's wrong with me."

Dr. Loyola could recognize a stale mate when she saw it, but she also saw the opportunity for more work.

"You were going through shock and you're also, in a sense, experiencing grief. I want you to remember that Josh is alright, that he's safe now, and alive and that above all it wasn't your fault. Whenever you feel the feelings become to much, repeat that to yourself over and over like a mantra until you settle down.

Now. I also want to you to continue to see someone, so you can sort things out."

"Oh."

Dr. Loyola smiled. "It was a pleasure meeting you, Donna."

"That's it?"

The psychiatrist nodded. "That's it."

"Oh."

"Get some rest. Repeat that mantra when needed. And Donna?"

"Yes?"

"Josh is lucky, to have someone like you looking after him."

"Thanks, Dr. Loyola."

Donna walked out of the conference room a short time after Dr. Loyola. She felt suddenly better and suddenly very tired. She wondered if Josh would mind if she just grabbed them some salads from the salad bar at the grocery store, or would he insist on dinner.

"Hey, kid. You okay?" Leo asked her.

Donna smiled. "Yeah, thanks, Leo. For everything."

"Don't mention it."

"Really, thank you."

"You're a part of the family here, Donna. The West Wing would partially collapse without you."

"Josh is a hurricane onto himself."

Leo laughed. "Yeah, he is. He's also really worried about you. He's called me five times asking me how you are. Do me a favor and call him telling him you're on your way home, would you?"

"I will, I promise."

"Thanks, Donna. I can't seem to get him to understand that I'm trying to run a country while he bugs me about you."

"Josh doesn't really understand patience."

"No, no he doesn't."

"I'll see you tomorrow, Leo."

"Take the day off, Donna. You deserve it."

"Oh, Leo, I couldn't. There's so much stuff-"

"That can wait until later. Besides, if I didn't, Josh would have my head when he got back. Tell him I said you're welcome."

Donna smiled, and nodded. "I will."


	23. Chapter 23

**Wow! Did you guys realize that I started Recovery a year ago tomorrow? I didn't realize it until I l saw the published date. So Happy Birthday Recovery! And to celebrate, here's an update! I wanted to have some humor, after all the necessary angst, while still moving the story along, so I hope you guys enjoy!**

He paced the room. How long could this possible take? What if they didn't see what he saw? What if they didn't take Donna seriously? Why wasn't she home?

He flung himself on the couch, wincing, remembering the hell he gave his on psychiatrist all those years ago. Even recently, when his Dad died, and Leo practically made him go back.

Should he say something to her? Should he ask her how it went? How did one go about doing that? His mom never really said anything when he came home from his appointments. They always talked about other stuff, like baseball games and what was on NPR and school and...stuff. So what was he supposed to do? Ask her what was for dinner? He ran his hands through his hair for what seemed like the thousandth time. He was going bald because of her, he thought.

Screw it. He'd call Leo and find out what was going on and why Donna wasn't back yet.

"Leo McGarry's office."

"Margaret. He busy?"

"Hello, Josh. I'm fine. I have a little bit of a cold, but otherwise I'm perfectly well, thanks."

"Margaret! It's important!"

"Fine. Hold, please."

"Hello?"

"Leo. What the hell is taking so long?"

"Josh, what are you talking about?"

"Donna," as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"She's still in her meeting. Leave the poor girl alone."

"She should have been home by now."

"Josh, you of all people should know that you can't put a time frame on these...meetings."

"God, Leo, call it what it is. She's talking to a psychiatrist. A shrink. A therapist. Just stop using euphemisms."

"Fine. You, of all people, should know that talking to a therapist can take a very long time. So if she's not home to make you dinner, get off your ass and make yourself some."

"Hey, Leo, I'm worried about her," Josh said quietly.

Leo sighed. "I know you are, kid. We all are. It's been stressful here, playing damage control after everything that's happened. And don't you dare think that I mean that you need to come back here, because we're fine. I'm just saying things aren't exactly a cake-walk at the White House."

Josh laughed. "When are they ever?"

Leo smiled. "Yeah, Josh, you got a point."

"I know I do. I was shot, not brain-dead."

Leo winced. "Don't make jokes like that, okay? It's morbid."

Josh laughed, then became serious. "When is Donna coming home?"

"Jesus, you're like a little kid. When she's ready, okay?"

"Yeah, okay."

"She's learned from the best, you know. She's probably giving that psychiatrist hell."

Josh smiled grimly. "I hope not."

–

He managed to catch a couple of hours of sleep before he woke to his stomach grumbling. He made himself a sandwich, wishing that Donna's apartment wasn't so damn quiet. It was stifling, it was so quiet. He tried the background noise of television, but it didn't work. Nothing, he found, could really compare to her presence.

Her phone rang. For a panicked second he wondered if he should answer it. What was the protocol for answering your assistant's phone? Should he? What if it was a boyfriend?

Ooh. That might be fun.

He realized, though, that Donna had caller-id and it was the White House.

"Hello?" he winced, realizing that his voice was way too eager for her voice to be at the end of the line.

"Hey, Josh. Behaving yourself?" C.J. asked.

"I'm a model patient."

C.J. snorted. "Like hell you are. How are you feeling?"

"Like I was shot in the chest."

"Leo said you were being morbid today."

"I'm sorry if you can't appreciate my humor."

"Seriously, Joshua, how are you?"

"Really, C.J., I'm good, I swear."

"You say so. Hey, I saw Donna earlier today. She alright?"

"Yeah, she just had to take care of a couple of things today."

"Josh, you're lying. I can tell when you're lying. I bet you're fidgeting. You're fidgeting, aren't you? What's up?"

Josh sighed. C.J. knew that he went to see a psychiatrist, she had to when she became Press Secretary and suddenly it was her job to know everyone's business before the press did. "She's seeing...someone, C.J."

"Oh..._oh_. Is she going to be okay? I'm sorry, Josh. I didn't realize-"

"It's okay, C.J., no one did. And she'll be okay. She's on the right path at any rate. But look, if you wouldn't mind keep this to yourself? I know this goes without saying, but I really don't need this to end up on Page Two of the Washington Post."

"Scout's honor, mi amour. I'll deflect the press the best I can."

"Thanks."

"Listen, Sam wants to stop by and see you and I thought I'd make the trip as well to see my favorite invalid. Are you up to visitors?"

"Yeah, that would be great. I'm bored out of my mind and it would be great to see you guys."

"Great! We'll be over in an hour."

True to their word, Sam and C.J. came over in an hour, finding Josh watching a program about pot farmers in California.

"So this is what the greatest political mind in America does in his free time?" Sam quipped, raising his eyebrow at the television.

C.J. swatted his arm. "Don't tell him things like that. It'll go to his head."

Josh grinned. "I've missed you guys."

"We've missed you too," C.J. said, hugging him.

"How are you feeling?" Sam asked.

"Is that the question of the day or something?"

Sam put his hands up. "Sorry."

"No, I'm sorry. I've just heard that question one too many times today."

Sam looked at him sympathetically. "You'll be back with us soon."

Josh gave him a sad smile. "I know."

C.J. looked around the place. "This is a pretty nice apartment."

"Yeah, Donna's got good taste."

C.J. gave him a look he couldn't quite decipher. "You look like you've lived here for awhile."

Josh raised his eyebrow. "What do you mean, C.J.?" his political instincts putting him on edge.

"You look like you're meant to be here, Josh. Am I going to have to start evading questions from Danny about your relationship with Donna?" C.J. meant it teasingly, meant to make Josh laugh or blush and stammer as he usually did when people eluded to him and Donna being together romantically, but then he turned pale, his face suddenly getting what C.J. called the 'oh shit' look.

"Oh God."

"C.J."

"Oh good, holy God."

"What?" asked Sam.

"You didn't," C.J. said.

"Did what?" asked Sam.

"We didn't," Josh said.

"Will someone _please_ tell me what's going on?"

"Josh, under penalty of death, you will tell me exactly what is going on RIGHT. NOW."

Josh, at least, had the grace to look sheepish. "We kind of kissed."

"_KIND OF?!"_

"How do you 'kind of' kiss?" Sam mused.

"We were both under a lot of stress. It's not like it's anything to get excited about."

"Oh please. There are office pools to see when you'll get together!"

"Are there really?"

"Yes."

"People really need to get lives."

"Joshua, I am going to ask you again, is this going to become an issue for the administration."

Josh looked her in the eye. "No, C.J."

"Okay," C.J. said. "Okay."

She sank down onto the couch. Josh sat back down as well, staring blankly at the television.

"So how do you 'kind of' kiss?" Sam asked, breaking the silence.


End file.
